


To My Beloved

by kingburu



Series: Who Do You Love [2]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Awkward Crush, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Multi, Romance, Romantic Comedy, godswap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:55:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 24,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29419005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingburu/pseuds/kingburu
Summary: As they make it to the edge of Camp, he turns one last time to take in Camp Halfblood. The Athena Parthenos pops out from the corner of his eye. His eyesight isn’t the best in the darkness—but even in the evening shadows, a demigod sticks out. One who spent too much of his life hiding from them.Jason lifts a hand and waves goodbye. Even from this distance, Nico’s heart skips a beat—because he knows Jason is smiling from afar.“I can’t believe you like him,” Percy mutters—evidently following Nico’s line of sight.“Shut up, Percy,” Nico replies. But—“You’re not saying no,” his big brother protests, because he’s really not.--Nico di Angelo, son of Juno, may have a small crush on Jason Grace, son of Hades. And he is absolutely,neverletting Jason know. After all -- love and marriage are so powerful that they have two different goddesses. He'll take a committed friendship over a broken heart any day.
Relationships: Nico di Angelo/Jason Grace, Thalia Grace/Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano
Series: Who Do You Love [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2161155
Comments: 21
Kudos: 68





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all!! As of tonight, it's still an hour and a half before Valentine's Day -- otherwise known as the day to celebrate Jason and Nico's least favorite god across all universes! Perfect time to post this, right? I'm so excited to finally share Dearly Departed's sequel with all of you! My personal life is busy, so I can't promise a rigid update schedule, but I hope I can make you fall in love with this story as much as you did with the first one! And if you want to skip all the build up and just read about two godswap boys, then this au is still for you! So please, enjoy this gift, and thank you for all of the love you've given me in 2020! Here's to MORE JASICO in 2021!! 
> 
> Please note -- there are a few details that were changed between this story and over the rainbow, either for continuity or spoiler's sake! So some timeline things may not add up (or you may not notice!) but the timeline of over the rainbow is meant to be a little vaguer as applied to the Dearly Departed universe!

Summers in New Rome are actually cooler than Venice. Year-round, the weather fluctuates on a ten-degree scale that messes with Nico no matter the month or day. He likens his sensitivity to the weather to his father, which is normally combatted with a rightful catnap under the Jupiter Optimus Maximus—the Gaudiest and Most Obnoxious—until Percy or someone else from the Fifth Cohort fetches him so they can fulfill camp duties.

This summer’s a little different. Percy has gone home every summer that Nico’s known him, but now he has Camp Halfblood to default to. The Coliseum has been quiet for months since the war with Gaea—since Thalia decided to go on a road trip with her little brother instead of holding screamo concerts. Nico has Reyna all to himself.

There’s far less property damage. Reyna and he can get through all of the paperwork without forgery or listening to Percy and Thalia arguing over what color a water fountain should be in the barracks. Nico can technically do what he _wants_ as praetor—but that’s also how nothing ever really got done before Thalia stepped down.

They have a little routine. Nico wakes up, knocks on the bathroom door until he’s annoyed Bianca into finish up, and they meet Reyna outside of the neighboring praetorhouse. Nico sips on his morning coffee—Thalia’s favorite nuclear bomb on the days he misses her the most—while listening to Bianca and Reyna work their way around appropriate topics. Usually, they settle on hunting. Nico’s banned himself as a topic of interest.

(He’s going to have to reiterate this when Percy comes back.)

It’s all mundane, like the end of the last war.

And—much better than traipsing across the world in a set of Bermuda shorts while dragging a twenty-foot-tall statue behind him. For the most part.

It gets a little _less_ mundane, the closer they get to the end of June.

On a Saturday of all days, Nico’s forced to wake up to the sound of vacuum cleaner rather than the hot gossip of birds outside his bedroom window. Just a loud **_VROOOOOOM_** and the clatter of the cord as it flops about the wooden floor. It’s so _loud_ that Nico’s inclined to believe that the vacuum cleaner is older than _they_ are, and smoke and dust billows at the crack beneath his door.

There’s a loud rattle—then a swear—as Bianca evidently kicks the vacuum cleaner. “ _Confounded…stupid…_ ”

**_VROOOOOOOOOM_ **

Then the century old vacuum cleaner cyclones yet again, leaving Nico with a sleepless morning. He peels himself unwillingly out of bed, pulls his bedroom door open— _“BIANCA—!”_

—and finds his sister happily vacuuming in the hallway, headphones lodged well into her ears as she floats across the hall. The vacuum continues to holler like an old man in a coughing fit, dust and smoke wafting into the air as it pretends to clean their already tidy household. Bianca flounces, head dutifully in the sky like it normally is.

Nico dutifully yanks the cord out of the outlet before he has to hear any more of Bianca’s ugly rendition of Hilary Duff.

“What— _hey_!” Bianca turns around, her demeanor twisting in offense. “Nico, I’m cleaning!”

“You’re making a mess,” Nico chides. He gestures to the crumpled rug behind him, lips contorted into a tired frown. “It’s _Saturday._ Can’t you do this later?”

They’ve argued over less. _Cleaning_ isn’t usually one of those issues—but Bianca stares at her brother now, confused. “Why would I do this later?”

“Because I’m trying to _sleep_.”

“But Thalia and Jace are coming home today,” Bianca protests. She hops over the vacuum cleaner—and engages, still puzzled. “Aren’t you excited?”

“I can be excited and sleep at the same time,” Nico retorts—and he rubs the sleep out of his own eyes. Bianca, on the other hand, is already dressed for the day at whatever ungodly hour it is. “They’re not coming until this afternoon. Plus, they need to unpack—”

“And they probably won’t go grocery shopping yet,” Bianca reasons. She gestures to their overall home. “Ergo, we could a dinner here. I just need to clean—”

“The only _mess_ in this house is your room,” Nico retorts. “Why don’t you focus on that disaster before bringing it out to the rest of the house?”

Bianca makes a sound, her cheeks flushing pink. “It’s not _my_ fault this place is a mess!”

Nico sighs with exasperation and gesticulates wildly. “I cleaned _yesterday_.”

“Badly,” she retorts.

“ _Excuse you_ —”

For as tiring as _this_ part of their morning routine is, Bianca decides to punctuate their argument by snatching the plug. She pouts at her brother, looking _seven_ rather than the sixteen that they celebrated two months ago, and a ribbon of electricity courses through her wrist to the tip of the metal prongs.

The vacuum comes to life, spewing a dust cloud from its brushes as retched and pitiful as Jupiter trying to speak over his siblings.

“Bianca,” Nico warns. “That vacuum’s older than the Trojan War.”

“Sorry,” she says—loudly, with her music running in her ears. “I can’t hear you over my _mess._ ”

“Stop being a brat!” Nico snaps grumpily.

“ _I’m_ being a brat?” Bianca whirls around, and in that moment, her expression mimics his. _“Who_ in this house has been sulking for _months_ because Thalia and Jace are gone—”

Her hands billow with electricity as she waves the plug around.

“—and spends _every_ drachma and denarii just to get a _call_ with them—”

“ _Bianca_ ,” Nico warns. “That vacuum—”

“—and calls Percy in the middle of the night just to play video games?” Bianca goes on. “You know Jace is confused why you called him last week and suddenly hung up? Talk about _rude_ —!”

“ _BIANCA!”_ Nico shouts—

**_BOOOOOM!_ **

—and the vacuum bag explodes, amassing the house in a cloud of dirt, dust, and forgotten uncooked elbow macaroni that fell to the floor instead of being devoured with last night’s dinner.

Which is how Nico spends another Saturday morning grabbing his pillow and walking next door to Reyna’s house. He’s tired, covered in a mixture of soot and dust as she opens the door. Reyna doesn’t question it anymore. She waves her hand in greeting and welcomes Nico to her couch before she showers.

Aurum and Argentum hop onto the small love seat and settle happily besides Nico as he slumbers.

He’s half asleep by the time their own returns from the bathroom, dressed for the day much like Bianca. Instead of an ancient vacuum cleaner, Reyna wakes him by waving a warm cup of coffee in his face, and Nico decides best not to argue a second time about waking up.

“So she decided to clean the house today,” Reyna summarizes while Nico grumbles into his coffee mug, “without forewarning?”

Nico rubs the sleep out of his eyes, then pushes hair out of his face. “I already _cleaned_ yesterday. Is there something wrong with the way I _clean_?”

“You’re the only reason we could see the floor in the Fifth Cohort barracks,” Reyna says—and she shakes her head in disbelief. “I can only imagine how Percy’s doing at Camp Halfblood. The cleaning harpies eat you if your cabin isn’t spotless.”

He snorts, but he knows better than to ask if she’s joking.

Still, Reyna lets out a soft chuckle and nudges him on the couch. “That old vacuum was going to give out eventually. There’s a reason why Thalia never used it.”

“ _That’s_ not the reason why Thalia never used it,” Nico mutters.

“You said Bianca’s mess is primarily in her room, didn’t you?”

“Only between sunset and sunrise,” Nico says. “Then the _mess_ joins us for breakfast at Fabiano’s.”

Reyna shoots him a light, but stern look. “You don’t mean that.”

“I don’t,” Nico agrees—and the tiniest pang of guilt hits him in the chest. “She apologized and agreed the _new_ mess was her fault. I just wanted to get some sleep this morning.”

“You and your sleep,” Reyna muses. She strokes Argentum over the head and smiles happily as the metallic pup stretches across her lap. “You’ve been tentative about this arrangement since you announced it. Are you really surprised?”

“No,” Nico agrees. He’s known since day one how easily the two of them rile each other up. Bickering with Bianca is just an expectation that he _has_ —but he had far more energy to deal with it when he was _nine_ than fifteen. “She’s just excited that Jason is coming back in town today. She’s doing this thing that Mammina taught us— _an immaculate home is a perfect home._ ”

Reyna makes a face. She arches an eyebrow in the air. “Didn’t you have a housemaid?”

“Nonna Laura wasn’t impressed with how slowly she folded our towels,” Nico admits—to which Reyna laughs.

“Well, aren’t you excited?”

Nico pauses. He bites the inside of his mouth, his hands curling softly around his coffee cup, and he absently stares at the remains of his beverage. “I—mean. I guess.”

He fiddles with the cords of his pajama pants, and from the corner of his eye, he catches sight of the new tattoo he’d received when they made it back to New Rome a few months ago.

The eagle still stretches its wings over his forearm, but it shares the space on his arm with the outline of a peacock. One of Juno’s symbols.

They sit as a reminder of his place as the son of the King and Queen of the gods. Years ago, he winced as an eagle and _SPQR_ was burned into his skin. Nico had hoped any association with Jupiter would just disappear entirely from his person, instead of stacking like a merit badge. A scar rests through his father’s eagle—an example of how he’s _honored_ his godly mother without realizing it—but Nico’s be happy all the same if Jupiter had _never_ lain claim to him.

Getting the peacock tattoo had come with a sigh of relief, alongside the new stripe that recorded his quest to take the Athena Parthenos home.

It wasn’t just… _his_ quest though. It was Nico’s quest—and the person he had to thank for even _knowing_ his bloodline. His true parentage. The person Nico seems to think about _daily_ now, since they’re no longer traveling together.

This time, Reyna’s other eyebrow arches in the air. “Thalia has been gone for two months and you’re telling me you’re not excited that today’s the day?”

Suddenly, Nico’s cheeks bloom red, and he shuffles awkwardly on the couch cushion. Hopes it doesn’t show that his mind is elsewhere. “Well, yeah.”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Reyna repeats—and Nico feels even more self-conscious under her presence.

“You’re seeing your girlfriend for the first time in two months,” Nico says, happy to change the subject. “How does _that_ feel?”

Reyna breaks into a warm smile that she truly only saves for family. There’s a glint to her eye at the mention of Thalia Grace, her _girlfriend_ , and she takes a longer sip of her coffee. “We were Iris Messaging last night. Honestly, this is the happiest that I’ve seen her since we’ve met. Being with her brother, I mean.”

“And with you,” Nico reminds her—and Reyna’s lips seem to stretch into a wider smile behind her coffee. He pauses, and frowns. “You two were IM-ing and didn’t invite me?”

“ _That’s_ more like it,” Reyna teases—and Nico’s cheeks flush. She raises her hand dismissively. “Just _girlfriend_ things. Jason’s excited to see you.”

Nico stares at the daughter of Bellona, wondering if he heard her correctly. He straightens in his seat and thumbs the brim of his cup. “Did he say that?” 

“He…said something about playing video games and Legend of Zelda.”

Again, Nico’s cheeks bloom red. He rubs his tattoo almost instinctively and finds himself a little more awake. “He remembered that?”

“He’s looking forward to it,” Reyna confirms—then she shakes her head in disbelief. “Thalia says he’s pretty much restless every day. Like he needs something to do. Honestly, if you and Jason can talk about video games, then you can stop letting Percy win at Smash Bros.”

“I don’t let him win,” Nico protests. “Percy loses on his own merit.”

Again—Reyna laughs, and Nico’s chest warms at the sight of it. Before he became praetor, he was just worried he’d never see her again. That he’d lose yet another sister without saying goodbye. Now, he’s enjoying her as his next-door neighbor and confidante, and watching as she smiles more freely at the thought of both the Legion and her girlfriend.

In some ways, Nico wishes he became praetor years ago. He owes a lot to an organization that made sure he grew up among _family_ rather than a prince.

“Any plans for the night?” Nico asks. He places his coffee mug on his coaster.

“Try to keep up with Thalia’s surprises,” Reyna admits—and she sounds tired for the day, as she did when she signed paperwork for Thalia’s concerts when a _No_ would’ve been much shorter on her tongue. Then she smiles, still far more in love with Thalia than she is tired. Some days, Nico’s envious of it. “We’ll probably sneak away after dinner. Jason insisted we spend some alone time together.”

“Thoughtful guy,” Nico comments. He does a bad job hiding his smile, but Reyna finds herself prattling on about something else anyway.

“Thoughtful indeed. I swear, they look _nothing_ alike—”

“But they’re both very…”

“Thoughtful,” Reyna echoes for him. The edge of her lips lifts with amusement. “Of course, Thalia’s probably _more_ than excited to see you. You’re welcome to—”

“No.” Nico shakes his head. “The last thing I want to be this summer is a third wheel. Time usually finds Thalia and I before we find it. I’m not worried.”

Reyna smiles happily at him—which is all Nico really needs to be satisfied with his own answer. A year ago, he was scared to be more than arm’s length away from three of his people. It stemmed from Bianca—of losing her in a hallway of the Lotus Casino and having his life change in the eye.

Nico went west, and Bianca went east. For how angry Nico was to lose his sister—angry at _Thalia_ —he knew he never wanted to relive that pain. Watching Thalia, Percy, Reyna, _and_ Hazel climb atop the Argo II was one of the most painful things he ever endured.

Now, Thalia was traveling with a little brother she never thought she’d see again. Percy could visit his mom and attend camp duties within an hour’s drive without the fear of monster attacks. Reyna and he leaned on each other to make the Legion better, and Hazel was having her second chance at life after wasted years running away from Hera’s rage, and found a sense of purpose.

(The last part Nico would have to talk to Mammina about, but he’s not sure if the cool-down period of demanding things from Olympus has ended yet.)

Nico has Thalia, Percy, Reyna, Hazel, _and_ Bianca all in an IM’s reach—and that’s more than enough. Even _if_ most mornings with Bianca feels like their own personal War Game with no Mural Crown at the end.

“What do you think you, Bianca, and Jason will be doing tonight?”

He makes a face. “Why would we be doing anything?”

“Well—because Thalia and I will be spending time together tonight. And as of right now, I think you and Bianca are his only friends in New Rome.”

“I’m sure whatever Bianca has planned for tonight will be more than enough.”

“And what about you?”

“What _about_ me?” Nico asks.

Reyna arches an eyebrow and looks at him more curiously. “Am I wrong to assume that you’re excited to see him, too? You two traveled together for a sum number of weeks, and _all_ he does on my IMs with Thalia is _praise_ you—”

“I can’t imagine why,” Nico interrupts. His cheeks flourish pink and he folds his arms over his chest. Still, the daughter of Bellona flashes a studious look in his direction, evidently analyzing Nico like a war tactician trying to understand her opponent’s moves. “ _Yes_ , Reyna?”

“All I know is, you left Epirus with the full intention of giving your title to Frank, then accepted the position with open arms by the time we saw you again in Camp Halfblood,” she says—and she shakes her head.

“That’s not true,” Nico rebuts. “I still hate the cape.”

“ _I_ personally have to praise Jason Grace for however he convinced you to become praetor.” Reyna blows a strand out of her eyes. “You’re very selective about what you’re willing to tell me about your quest.”

“That’s because I spent a good chunk of it unconscious,” Nico retorts—and his cheek blaze pink. He brushes the inside of his thigh without meaning to—and thinks of their time in France. What little of it he was awake for. “There’s really not much to tell.”

“That’s not what Hylla says.”

“What does _Hylla_ say?” Nico cocks his head—and this time he catches Reyna’s innocent look.

“We talk,” Reyna says simply, “because someone here decided to withhold the fact his powers were turning him into a cloud.”

Nico rolls his eyes as the age-old lecture spikes up again. “You’re worse than Bianca.”

“Worrying about you as much as your sister?” Reyna snorts—and they set aside all things Hylla. She ruffles his hair. “I see no problem with that.”

Nico echoes her sound with a snort of his own, and nudges back. He studies how light she looks in her weekend civvies, dressed for the light summer heat. Reyna’s hair is still short from her time at Camp Halfblood. She’s relaxed in her demeanor—though still very much poised.

“Of course you’re worried,” Nico replies. “You’re basically my sister, too.”

At that compliment, Reyna smiles and finishes off the rest of her coffee.

Then she ends their morning with the same question. “You’re really not that excited about Jason moving here?”

Jason Grace, son of Hades. As Bianca liked to put it, one of the most mild-mannered demigods Nico’s ever met—especially compared to the rowdy sister that resembled Jason best in heart. Nico thinks about the last time they actually saw each other at Camp Halfblood—beneath the stars, catching a moment’s breath after weeks of agony on a quest. Months ago, Jason’s excitement of moving to New Rome was infectious.

“Of course I am,” Nico admits. “Jason’s really good to talk to.”

If he thinks about it long enough, he can just _feel_ how tightly Jason hugged him, with a soft whisper of gratitude.

And—just like every other instance the thought has lingered, Nico grows flustered once again.

*

Nico ends up buying a vacuum cleaner for a number of reasons. For one—the one the Legion provided was probably older than some of the Lares that pranced about New Rome. While not the first order of business, he decides it was long overdue to introduce the house to a new generation of cleaning technology.

Second, it gives him more than enough excuse to spend time away from home while Bianca conducts her (wrong) version of cleaning their home. He stops by the electronics store first, in order to choose a more acceptable vacuum cleaner, then stops by Fabiano’s to grab both his sister’s favorite drink and some pastries as a peace offering.

Third—and absolutely the least important, he decides that if Jason is going to end up hanging out with them (Bianca) tonight, then an _immaculate_ house feels sounder than the hurricane of Bianca’s wardrobe and his video games left out in the living room. For the first time _ever_ , Jason is living elsewhere from Camp Halfblood, and Nico is compelled to show there’s far more out there in the world than a fickle, dramatic God of _Whine_ and an absentee bumbling centaur.

(There’s a minute of mental somersaults at QuestBuy when Nico reminds himself that Jason’s seen more of the world with Thalia in the last two months, but he decides that replacing the dusty old vacuum takes precedence, anyway.)

Taking care of a house is far more exhausting than tucking the blanket over his bunkbed in the barracks. Nico would gladly take the simplicity of separating his clean pants from Percy’s sweaty socks over spending an hour looking at _aesthetically pleasing_ salt and pepper shakers with Bianca.

(There’s no hesitation on Reyna’s part when she points out Nico is missing Percy. She knows, because Nico wouldn’t miss Percy’s stinky socks otherwise.)

It's not that Nico _doesn’t_ like living with Bianca. He’s spent too many years longing for her presence and finding comfort in three of his favorite people during his lows not to miss her.

There are days where they seem to fall into a rhythm, completing each other’s routine while juggling a conversation that completes yet another puzzling piece of Nico’s childhood. He enjoys those days—the ones that feel like they never separated.

Then there are the days that remind him that they’ve lived different lives. Where Nico grew up past the age of ten, and Bianca is still trying to lecture him like he’s going to eat a booger. They aren’t in sync. Sometimes, they recount things to each other like strangers, who struggle to build the cadence that truly made them feel like siblings. It’s harder to navigate those days.

Nico’s learned that Bianca has a knack for photography the same way he enjoys reading comics. They’re things that existed when they were little—and time has only carried on with more incarnations of the hobbies they both loved. Bianca likes to take pictures and make things look nice, even for a second—to remember one tide in an ocean. It’s sweet.

(It also took three days to convince her to stop taking pictures of them in _every inch_ of the house.)

Thus—Praetor di Angelo, son of Juno reminds himself that the _good_ parts of his sister outweigh the bad on most days and comes home with a vacuum cleaner and bribery. Scones, specifically.

“Bianca,” he calls lightly as he enters through the front door, “I brought a peace offering.”

Their house is silent for once. The aftermath of dust bunnies and stale macaroni is nowhere to be seen, swept away by a broom. It’s clean. The last time Nico’s ever made a mess was when he littered his old bedroom with toys, but there wasn’t nearly as much space in his trunk in his barracks. Bianca has put away his controllers and folded their throw blanket nicely over their couch.

The novelty of how _normal_ their home life is strange since Nico’s weekdays are spent wrangling legionnaires and weighing on Senate meetings—but he’s willing to admit that Bianca has cleaned in a way that their godly mother would approve.

He finds her sitting in their tiny backyard beneath an oak tree.

It’s his favorite part about living with his big sister—reliving the moments at the di Angelo Estate, where he sat in his mother’s lap and ate a nice picnic. This time, they’re much older. Bianca takes photos of the shadows of the leaves against the dull green grass—and still manages to look as lady-like as she wanted when they were little.

Nico announces his presence by clearing his throat. Bianca looks up, and by glance alone, he knows their argument is a thing of the past.

“Peace offering,” he says, and he pushes the box of scones in her direction. Bianca brightens at the coffee passed her way. “I bought a new vacuum cleaner, too.”

“Want me to pay you back?”

A _duh_ rests on Nico’s tongue, but he shrugs and shakes his head instead.

Bianca is sheepish as she takes a test sip of her drink. “Sorry. I might have been a little compulsive this morning.”

“A little?” Nico asks—and she pouts. “Go on.”

Bianca looks hesitant. The California sun warms her skin, as it does for Nico every summer. Each day, he’s more startled by their similarities than their differences—including the self-doubt that seems to linger across her features.

“So Jace is coming back today,” she reminds him.

“First I’ve heard of it today,” Nico muses wryly—and she nudges him playfully.

“I…wasn’t the best to him before I left. I was really focused on myself.”

“I’m familiar with your big head, yeah.”

“Nico!” Bianca admonishes—but she sighs this time instead of threatening him with a waggled finger. Again, her demeanor shrinks—and despite all of the fun and frustrations they’ve had in the last few months, she grows as somber as she did when they reunited. “Jace was my first friend at Camp Halfblood. My best friend. I…just want to get back there with him, you know? I don’t want to screw it up.”

“Being _back there_ is part of the reason why you didn’t _work_ , Sis.”

Bianca withers, biting the inside of her mouth—but she doesn’t refute his claim. Nico feels a small pang of guilt. He breaks off half a scone and offer it to her.

“Just be _better_ ,” he advises. “Jason is trying to be better. Meet him there.”

She smiles at his advice—just a weak little thing. “Noted.”

“Good.”

“So…why _did_ you hang up on Jace last week?”

Nico makes a face. His cheeks flush red, and he eyes his sister carefully before plucking his drink out of his cupholder. He shoves a full scone in his mouth, and bites back a grimace as Bianca just looks at him curiously.

“No reason,” he offers. Crumbs go flying from his lips.

“ _Ew_.” Bianca gags and scoots away before she can end up in his line of fire. “You’re being gross.”

“And you’re mulling over nothing,” Nico reassures. He swallows hard and takes a long gulp of his drink. “I buttdialed him. I was between meetings all week. We’re shorthanded while people are trying to figure out which camp they prefer, like Percy. I’m a couple centurions short after Octavian tried to tear the Legion apart, and we’re still trying to catch up on permits and paperwork after all _three_ of us were called to action.”

Bianca stares at him doubtfully. “Sounds like you’ve been busy.”

“On the weekdays,” Nico agrees. Wryly, he adds, “that’s why I value my sleep on the weekends.”

She smiles sheepishly but doesn’t argue. “Well, the house is clean now. You’re welcome to sleep the day away until Thalia and Jason get here.”

“Thank you,” Nico says. He’s hesitant, but then he adds, “You…don’t have to hang out around here all day with just me, you know. You’re welcome to travel.”

He still feels guilty, being chosen over Calypso.

Yet Bianca stares at him, puzzled by the words.

“No need to pour your restless energy into over-cleaning the house,” Nico continues. “Or playing some happy homemaker. You’re my sister, Bianca. Not my wife.”

“Gross,” Bianca mutters.

“ _Super_ gross,” Nico agrees—but he’d be lying if he didn’t notice some of Mammina’s tendencies coming out of his sister. Maybe they were innate, like when he accidentally helped deliver a baby a few months ago.

She tried to keep a tidy home and feed him every waking hour of the day. Nico’s had to insist more than once now for her to leave his games alone. It reminds him of days where his grandmother and Juno would compete to keep an _immaculate_ home, with the Mother Goddess never quite meeting the di Angelo matriarch’s standards.

In a way, he pities his godly mother. Stuck in an unhappy marriage to an arrogant god and unable to show her radiance as the Goddess of Family to the parents of the only mortal lover she’s ever taken.

Nico thinks Bianca may be trying her best, too, to keep them together. With all the strokes that Nonna Laura would probably criticize.

Whether she realizes it or not, Bianca shrugs. She pulls a lock of hair against her ear and leans into him in a way they would settle after playing as children. “Things will get better when Jace gets here. I’ll be out of your hair for a while.”

“You’re never in my hair,” Nico dismisses.

She gives him a pointed look.

“You could stand to make your showers shorter,” Nico revises. “California is in a never-ending draught.”

At that admission, Bianca flushes. She laughs and kisses him on the cheek before splitting another scone for the two of them. “Look at my little brother—all grown up and offering sound advice.”

Red flutters in Nico’s cheeks. “And yet you only listen to half of it.”

Bianca shoots him another look, lips stretching into a pout.

“Kidding,” Nico dismisses once again. “I’m…glad that you’re thinking about working hard with Jason, Bianca. I know that’ll mean a lot to him.”

She smiles at him meaningfully, and Nico deduces it’s the best thing he’s said all day.

“ _We’re…_ getting there,” she asks gently. “Right?”

Nico lifts his gaze at his sister—at her hopeful expression and calm stature—and nods his head in agreement. “I’d say _getting there_ would be the perfect place to describe us.”

Again, Bianca beams—and Nico relishes in the moment of reprieve with his big sister.

*

Nico’s day off gets interrupted eventually. It’s the downside of being a _leader—_ for all the time that Nico invested during his week, he’s always on call if a situation escalates. _That_ typically included challenges waged by different soldiers, fights between Greek and Roman demigods, or a faun antic gone wrong.

Not officiating a wedding.

He makes it to Temple Hill—dressed in his praetor robes—as instructed by Dakota, and halts at the number of chairs strewn across from his mother’s statue. He sees the son of Bacchus, dressed in his best robes, and another boy with a similar build dressed in a tux. They both perk when they see him.

“Nico! You made it!” Dakota waves around a questionable flask and gestures for Nico to come close. The boy next to him looks nervous. “This is my brother, Pollux—we’re glad we could get you so short-noticed.”

There’s an arch of lotuses that decorates the Juno Moneta. It softens her features in the background as she stares down upon them. He’s inclined to inspect them, but his confusion wins over.

“I,” Nico says slowly, “would’ve dressed better had I known I was attending a wedding.”

“Really?” mutters Pollux. He sighs in relief. “Thank gods.”

Nico makes a face—but Dakota takes it all in stride.

“Your robes are official enough,” he says. “That’s good enough for everything.”

“For what?” Nico asks.

“Officiating!”

“ _What_?”

“Yeah!” Dakota slaps his brother’s shoulder blithely and holds his head high with the same gusto that Nico misses so much in Percy. “Pollux and Gwen were gonna have their wedding in front of Dad’s shrine, but I told them they should save it for the reception. I mentioned you were a son of Juno and all now, and Gwen was all for it.”

Nico stares at the son of Bacchus, wondering if he heard correctly. “All for _what_?”

“Blessing the wedding, of course!” Dakota says. “You have experience in that.”

“Yeah, with blessing _swords_ ,” Nico protests. He recalls times before this last summer where Vulcan children came to him with newly made imperial gold weapons. His cheeks grow hot and he looks up to Pollux, who suddenly looks more doubtful. “When I said you could _call me for emergencies_ , Dakota, I didn’t mean for this! This isn’t part of my job description.”

  
Of course, Mammina’s statue suddenly leers at him, as if saying _Take That Back._

Pollux suddenly looks distressed, the husband-to-be looking at his brother worriedly, but Dakota’s own brazen attitude seems to balance him out.

“You’re a son of Juno though,” Dakota protests. “Doesn’t that mean you’re _meant_ for this?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Plus, you’re the highest ranked government official,” Dakota continues, and he makes tick marks with his hands.

“Okay, yeah—”

“And you’re a son of Jupiter,” Dakota finishes. “Also—Gwen’s known you since you were like, _yay big_ , and she’s family. She’d be crushed if you couldn’t do this, man!”

Nico flashes Dakota an exasperated look. “I see you’ve been brushing up on your diplomacy skills with _Percy_.”

Dakota takes a healthy swig of his flask and vibrates in his normal sugar high. “It’s that girl he’s been dating, man. I swear Percy thinks in, like, _5-D_ now.”

“A scary thought,” Nico says wryly. He fiddles with the badge at his chest and smooths out the cloak over his shoulders, if only to look more presentable under his mother. “And they’re not dating. Otherwise I’d be blessing _their_ union right now.”

Pollux perks, his eyes flashing pleadingly. “So you’ll marry us?”

“Gwen helped raise me in the Fifth Cohort. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her,” Nico says. He hesitates—before adding, “With how tense things were after the war ended, I’m glad there are people out there who have genuinely found peace between our camps. It means a lot.”

At those sound words, Pollux looks less panicked than before. He holds a hand to his chest in relief, while Dakota relishes in his victory.

“Told you Nico was awesome,” Dakota says.

Nico can’t help but blush.

Mike Kahale shows up not too long after that, actually dressed for the occasion. There’s a moment’s greeting, where Mike and Dakota greet each other amicably. Then, Mike and Nico are ushered off to make Nico look more presentable and sooth Pollux’s nerves.

The son of Venus takes out a portable jewelry box, decked out with necklaces, earrings, bangles—and so on. The level of daintiness seems to vary—and Mike Kahale is not the type of demigod anyone would ever describe as dainty.

“And here I thought Thalia was the walking jewelry box,” Nico mutters, as Mike looks through headpieces. _Headpieces!_

“Fashion’s for everyone,” Mike dismisses. 

It’s not often that they talk to each other. Maybe more after the war. Despite how close Mike Kahale was to Octavian, the entire First Cohort insisted their old augur was just _that_ persuasive. Mike isn’t nearly as loud as his sponsor was. He’s thoughtful, quiet, and strategic— in all of the ways that Piper wanted to prove that children of Aphrodite could also be.

Watching Mike pluck jewelry and arrange his robes reminds Nico of Jason. All the quickness and the nimbleness of his fingers, working with something other than a sword and a knife. Nico imagines paler hands, curling around his own fingers to inspect them, and the sweet smile that had followed for most of spring.

“So when are you going to have one of these?” Mike asks abruptly.

Nico makes a face, his cheeks flourishing pink. “Why?”

“Your mom’s the goddess of marriage,” Mike points out. “I’m assuming it’s a lifelong goal or something.”

“You’re right. You’re assuming,” Nico retorts. He shrugs as Mike clasps a gold band on his arm. “My mom’s not even happy with her own marriage.”

Mike lifts an eyebrow, though he clearly doesn’t have a word for it. If Jason were here, he’d probably laugh. “I hope you’re not planning on putting that in your speech.”

“I’m happy for anyone who finds love like that,” Nico reassures. He crosses his arms over his chest and shifts uncomfortably. “But as of _right now_ , I can’t say I’m the _wedding type._ ”

He decides to avoid Mammina’s gaze at that declaration.

“That’s a shame,” Mike continues. “Considering wedding season’s just started.”

Nico pauses. “There’s a season?”

“Early June through September,” Mike explains. “Usually, I get the invite because of my mom. And because of _your_ mom…well. We’re probably going to be seeing a lot of each other.”

Nico stares at Mike in disbelief. As he opens his mouth to speak, Mike clasps a band on his other arm and then whips out a compact mirror. Nico stares at himself and tries his best not to grimace.

His praetor badge hangs neatly over his robes, while his purple cloak seems to look more regal under Mike’s touch.

There’s a headpiece at the crown of his head—a golden laurel that outshines the one on their camp shirt. An actual mural crown. In the olden days, it was given to someone who watched over the city. The protector. That alone feels like _too_ much for him to wear at a wedding, but with the bangles on his wrists, the chains around his neck, and his blue eyes and hair…

“I look like my dad,” Nico complains.

Mike shrugs. “Just channel your mom.”

*

The ceremony is quaint. There’s a mix of Greek and Roman faces in the audience that Nico doesn’t see too often. Gwendolyn walks down the aisle, dressed in a beautiful trumpet gown that compliments her narrow frame, and she’s so giddy with happiness that she waves at Nico.

Everyone rises to their feet, and there’s a soft wave of adoration for the blushing, eloquent bride. Nico’s not sure how long Gwen and Pollux have been dating. He knows in Roman times, brides have been given away in less time, and with less love.

With the lives they live, it’s hard to cement whether they have another year, or another day—so he’s happy for someone from his own family who can find that instance of love, and the spark of adoration that comes in both small and heavy doses—but always grows with heart and conversation.

“Dearly Beloved,” Nico starts, unsure of how else to really _officiate_ a wedding. “We are gathered here today to…celebrate the love between Pollux and Gwen.”

Speeches for a whole army can already be intimidating enough. A speech for two people who love each other enough to devote their lives to one another is something else.

Nico tries his best, hoping a speech about commitment and love can roll off the tongue as easily as Percy spouting nautical miles, or Thalia guessing the value of jewels and gemstones.

He can’t recall a time where he’s been to a wedding. Maybe when he was really young, and he and mortal mother strategized on how to get the biggest slice of cake. His own moms never married.

It’s the norm for demigods—for love or lust to happen in one stroke between mortal and god, and a baby after some time. Some were unlucky to ever see their beloved again—like Sally Jackson, who had a brief summer romance with the King of the Sea, and wistfully awaited Neptune’s return for twelve years.

Nico, though—has vivid memories of the Queen of the Gods in his childhood, holding his hand as he hopped along cobblestone steps and chattered back at birds. _Love_ wasn’t something that Nico learned, but something he grew up with, between his adoring grandparents, his two mothers, and (sometimes) his big sister. He never had to question if it was there. Thalia, Percy, Reyna filled that hole when he thought he lost everything. They never let him fall.

And—with Hazel’s wake and Bianca’s return, _that_ love only grew.

The other love—the one that Mike Kahale’s mother represents—is complicated. So complicated that not one, but two gods represent its intricacies. _Love_ and _marriage_ have two different goddesses because there’s power in both—good and bad. The disastrous strokes of passion that made Psyche see a monster in the middle of the night, and the commitment bound by trickery and malevolence between the King and Queen of the Gods.

Nico remembers very well what Eros said about his own love life.

_Nico di Angelo—_ _so insecure that he’ll never find love so long as he lives_ _._ No one who’ll ever understand him, no one who’ll ever see _him_ past his father’s title.

He thinks he’s gotten better with his words. Or—whatever’s coming out of his mouth right now while Gwen and Pollux eye each other adoringly. Percy, Thalia, and Reyna have always loved him enough to shield him from the ogling eyes to his father’s name. Hazel and he are connected in spite of the King of the Gods, and Bianca is from a life before.

The older he gets, the further away the men in the alley of Venice feels. That different type of love that Nico learned came with good and bad and made him say, I want that.

After this past spring, he’s not the biggest fan of Eros, God of Love—or whatever that may entail. Dreams of starry nights and moonlit conversations are far from what Nico expects in his love life—and not something he’s ever really expected, after this century.

And he’s okay with that.

Nico gets to live in a world where Thalia, the daughter of Pluto who saved him all those years ago, is happily in love with her best friend. Where his hero, Percy, gets to go home and spend time with his mother. Reyna and he can map out a better future for the Legion, and he can go home and enjoy time with his resurrected big sister as they catch up with Hazel over IM together.

Nico’s happy.

So, because he doesn’t like to think of the bad that’s happened in the name of love and commitment—at a wedding of all places—he focuses on the good. Sweet conversations in the evening. Stars that filled the evening sky for love’s first meeting and love’s devotion.

Something about his speech must not suck. By the end of it, Gwendolyn is fanning herself, trying her best not to cry. Pollux arches an eyebrow, his wedding vows fisted in his hand, and Mike Kahale, son of Venus, is staring from the first row in amusement.

The first of many weddings of the season, Nico thinks tiredly.

Dakota gives him a thumbs up.

“I…believe the bride would like to say a few words,” Nico says next. He turns and faces the misty-eyed audience.

Then he listens to two people in love, gushing about how they can’t wait to share a life together.

_*_

Nico gets rewarded with cake.

Before he can sit down at his mother’s steps and eat it, he gets committed to two more weddings in the upcoming week and is asked to kiss a few baby heads. He’s still not sure how his time ended up here of all places. Kissing babies is definitely nothing like blessing imperial gold—but Nico trades accidentally cutting his mouth with getting his hair yanked. 

Gwendolyn is overjoyed about her wedding day. And Pollux, son of the God of Parties, is ecstatic that the reception is a hit. As far as praetor responsibilities and duties in the name of his godly parent go, weddings aren’t _that_ bad.

“You seriously attend every single one of these?” Nico asks, after his third attempt to sit down is met with failure.

Mike shrugs. “Everyone wants love at their wedding. And you can’t beat free food.”

Given Mike’s other job is a _quarterback_ for his high school team, Nico decides it makes sense that the son of Venus is a bottomless pit.

Between fun music, questionable (yet age-appropriate) drinks, and happy people, weddings are much less awkward than breaking up make out sessions behind the barracks. If Nico can find a civil ground with the First Cohort’s centurion, too, then it’s better for the Legion.

(He can already imagine Reyna ruffling his hair at that thought.)

It ends up being a pretty good time. Nico crosses _officiate a wedding_ off his list of things to do to honor Mammina, right under _Deliver a Kid._

A tap on the shoulder makes him turn around, and Nico’s already open armed to kiss another baby.

“Give her here,” Nico instructs.

“Give _who_ here?” Thalia’s grin is wily when he looks up. She looks completely out of place in her steel-toed combat boots, tattered jeans, and spiked leather jacket. Her hair somehow looks spikier than before—and in the middle of a wedding, she looks like Death. “Hey, Neeks.”

Nico matches her grin. He throws his arms around the daughter of Pluto.

She hugs him back in a bone-crushing embrace, evidently making up for all of the weeks Jason and she were gone. “Do I get one of those blessed baby kisses too?”

He laughs. “When did you even get back?”

“A couple hours ago,” Thalia replies. She gestures to the sky—which looks more orange than blue, and Nico realizes where his time has gone.

The edge of his lips lifts into the briefest smile—and then it diminishes. “I was supposed to be there when you got back.”

With all the ease that came with Thalia Grace, she waves a hand dismissively. Her smile incites reassurance. “Rey mentioned you got called away for praetor stuff. Didn’t know you were officiating weddings now.”

Nico wrinkles his nose and pulls away. He makes a face. “I don’t recall you ever having to do this.”

“That’s because no one ever wants to wish the _Kiss of Death_ on their baby,” Thalia muses. “Pretty disappointing, honestly. I’ve been told I’m a great kisser.”

The edge of Nico’s lips twitch into a smile, his heart a little fuller in her presence. “What I wouldn’t give to see what you would say on stage.”

She snickers, a loving arm around his shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” Nico repeats. For how much he put off Thalia’s reappearance, he’s suddenly reinvigorated by her presence. And regretting ever downplaying it in front of both Bianca and Reyna. “I really wanted to be there.”

“You didn’t miss much. A couple of heavy boxes full of my boots and my _Bullet for My Valentine_ album collection.” Thalia shakes her head dismissively. “Praetor duties, Nico. You never know when they’re going to hit—you’re just supposed to expect the unexpected.”

Marrying a couple was definitely on the list of things Nico didn’t _expect._

“It’s different this year,” he says. “With Camp Halfblood and all.”

Between Camp Halfblood and Camp Jupiter, and the number of campers who wanted to shuffle in between—or wanted to enjoy New Rome’s amenities without enlisting for ten years. It’s certainly not for everyone. But—the last that Nico’s heard, Hazel has been a great camp leader at Camp Halfblood. He just wishes they could spend more time together.

“I didn’t even realize I signed up for this,” Nico mentions irately. He pushes a hand through his hair. “Dakota just said _hurry._ ”

Thalia laughs. “You should’ve let Reyna prescreen. That’s what I used to make her do.”

“I think you mean _pawn things off_ on her and commit forgery.” 

“Pawn. Now _that’s_ a word that’s in my vocabulary.” She smirks, and the gems in her ears seem to glimmer.

Nico sighs and rolls his eyes. “Where is Reyna, anyway? I thought you were with her.”

Thalia points in another direction, where Reyna is busy discussing things with Hank from the Third Cohort. There’s a camper standing beside him, dressed in orange rather than purple. Reyna has her _recruiter_ demeanor on, clearly spouting the benefits of Camp Jupiter. There’s a pamphlet in her hand.

“Praetor’s job never stops,” Thalia muses. “That’s why she was the best.”

“You’re selling yourself short.”

“I know a diamond when I see one.” Thalia looks over to Nico, amused. Her smile is brighter than Nico’s ever seen, with a love in her eyes after two months. She catches Reyna in a glance, and their smiles broaden.

After months of contact through IM, Nico knows Reyna is ecstatic to have her girlfriend back in town. Every inch of Reyna’s smile is mirrored in Thalia’s own.

“Were you inquiring about my services?” Nico muses. “I charge in cake.”

Thalia grins, one eyebrow arched in the air. “Nico, we’re at a wedding on _Temple Hill._ We just happened to pass by on our way to Dad’s crypt.”

Nico shrugs—but his mind happens to latch onto her words. He cocks his head back to the daughter of Pluto. “We?”

He doesn’t have to wait long. A new song blasts from whatever stereo, and the precisive glee of his sister reaches him. “Jace, come dance with me!”

Nico zeroes in on Jason immediately.

At first, Jason stands there, dressed in a simple shirt and jeans in the summer heat. His hair is short and neat, like their first meeting. Fourteen beads rest across his neck—the time he’s poured into Camp Halfblood evident against his clavicle. Then, when Bianca squeals and yanks him to the dance floor, Jason’s smile stands out like a beacon.

His laugh is warm and contagious, drowning out whatever is blasting over the stereo. Nico sees dimpled cheeks and joyous glee, and his heart somersaults to the downbeat of the song.

“Ew,” is all Thalia says. “ _Jonas Brothers_.”

As though Jason can hear them, he turns his head—and his eyes light up at the sight of them.

“Nico! Hey!”

Nico’s so busy relishing in that thought that he doesn’t notice Jason walking up. He’s lost in the way Jason’s smile dimples, and how white his teeth are. How bright his eyes are against the evening sky, and how honey sweet the tenor of his voice is.

“Uh…Nico?”

“Hi,” Nico replies, when he finds his voice. His cheeks flourish pink, and his first reaction is to extend a hand, like he’s recruiting a new camper or sponsor for Camp Jupiter. He wasn’t prepared for anything today—Bianca’s vacuum cleaner, officiating a wedding—and least of all Jason’s presence.

Still, Jason’s expression is light—much brighter than the crazy day that Nico’s having. His eyes flicker with a momentary confusion—and his smile spreads as he shakes Nico’s hand.

“You look nice,” he comments. 

Oh. Nico’s cheeks flush pink. He fiddles with the bracelet Mike clasped on his wrist.

“I’ve…” Nico hesitates. He clears his throat. “I…I’m flattered. Thanks.”

Jason smiles at him fully, and Nico’s pretty sure he exhausted his ability to speak earlier, after some emotional speech in the name of his mother.

“I’m gonna have some fighting words with the DJ. No one needs to suffer through _pop music,_ ” Thalia announces. She claps a hand on both their shoulders, her lips stretched into a warm smile. Thalia looks between the both of them. “So glad to have both my baby brothers in one room again.”

Nico’s chest swells. Two months is the longest he’s been without her since they’ve met.

As though she has the same sentiment, Thalia gives his shoulder one more gratifying squeeze. “We’ll catch up, Neeks. When you’re not drowning because of work.”

“So, never,” Nico corrects for her—and she grins.

Then, she’s off to find her girlfriend in the cluster of people surrounding the Juno Moneta. It’s strange to celebrate a joyous day beneath _the One Who Warns_ —but maybe that’s why the Romans called her that. Don’t marry a chump of a god. Find someone who’s actually worthy of commitment.

“Been busy?” Jason asks, finding Nico through dumb thoughts. He looks better, after Tartarus and carrying the Athena Parthenos.

Nico sighs with exhaustion. Off in the distance he watches Dakota and Thalia trade bar tricks over a glass full of questionable Kool-Aid. The new Fifth Cohort centurion catches his eye and gives him a happy wave.

“Being praetor keeps me on my toes more days than not,” he admits wryly. He folds his arms over his chest, and the bangles chatter at his wrist.

Jason smiles at him, unabashed, and gestures upwards, towards his father’s crypt. “Want to get out of here?”

Nico’s heart skips a beat. There’s a way that Jason says it, as though no time has passed at all, while Nico is stumbling to find even footing. “Weren’t you hanging out with Bianca tonight?”

“I don’t think I can keep up with Bianca.” Jason’s smile widens with mirth, and he gestures over to a gaggle of women who are flocking towards Gwendolyn for the bouquet toss. Bianca is in the mix—but she’s acting more like a referee.

Of course she’d be more in her element at a wedding. More than he feels himself, anyway.

“Besides,” Jason continues in good nature, “I hear praetors make the best tour guides.”

Jason’s enthusiasm for him is unmatched by others. Nico feels his chest flutter. He looks to the scene in front of him and bites back a smile.

“I’d be a bad host if I didn’t show you around,” he agrees. “And we can’t have that.”

“Certainly,” Jason agrees. “Hera would never allow it.”

“Juno,” Nico corrects lightly. “You’re in new waters now, Ambassador Grace. It’d do well for you to learn the culture.”

Jason’s eyes seem to glitter beneath the moonlight. His lips spill into a smile—and as he laughs, Nico feels less unsettled.

*

The music begins to fade as they climb the hilltop towards Pluto’s crypt. They keep the topic light—how Nico managed to find himself in the middle of a wedding when he thought it was for some huge Senate meeting. How Mike Kahale conveniently showed up with jewelry and spruced him up.

Jason laughs as they make it up the hilltop. He crouches to the ground and gathers a bouquet of poppies. “Aphrodite kids. You never know what they’re going to bring to the table.”

“Percy’s a bit confused by them. Something about being too busy washing their hair and painting each other’s nails.” Nico wrinkles his nose—then adds, “His words. Not mine. Percy’s idea of a bath is dunking his head in the Little Tiber.”

Again, Jason laughs—and Nico’s chest grows warm. The son of Hades stands to his feet and hands the bouquet off. “The Aphrodite Kids are a different bunch from the Venus kids. No one really expects them to fight.”

“Nothing wrong with not fighting,” Nico says—and he swears Jason’s smile grows. He watches as Jason tidies the plate at the foot of Pluto’s statue. There’s care there, in the way Jason looks up to the Roman incarnation of his father. In just statue alone, Nico can match the kindness of Jason’s eyes to the King of the Dead. “Percy says that the Hades Cabin is like no other. Have…you had the chance to see it?”

“Not yet,” Jason admits. And he shakes his head. “Hades Cabin was the first one Annabeth wanted to build. She wanted my input before Thal and I left for our trip and kept that up. We talk just about every day now.”

Nico can’t help but feel a surge pride for Jason. He knows what a hard road it was for both Jason and Annabeth to get there. “That’s great, Jason. I’m happy for you.”

He hands the flowers back to Jason wordlessly, with little to be said about the exchange. Instead, Jason smiles, even happier than before. He sets the flowers at his father’s brazier and murmurs soft words—some in the name of the fallen. There’s a different energy to him.

Months ago, Nico remembers _loathing_ Jason when they first met. Ambassador Grace, son of Pluto, who threatened to take Thalia away from him. He was formal in introduction, offering a handshake and a careful smile. Now, though—Nico didn’t think he would ever see Jason Grace on his knees, in a silent prayer to the King of the Dead. The father Jason had a love-hate relationship with when all Nico had for Jupiter was absolute exasperation.

“Was it a good trip?” Nico asks, as Jason dusts off his knees. When it comes to Thalia, Jason lights up.

“I haven’t seen that much of the world, in…well. Ever.” Jason rubs his forehead, and he grows sheepish. “Not since you, me, and Uncle Gleeson.”

“I’m sure your trip with Thalia was a lot more _fun_ than the time crunch we were on.”

Jason chuckles softly. “You and I had our fun. I showed Thalia that varenyky place we went to in Odesa.”

Nico perks at that—the memory of the scent of the sea and older architecture coming to the front of his mind. “What about the museum?”

“No museum,” Jason reports. “She said learning was for nerds.”

Nico snorts. “That sounds like Thalia.”

After two months with her, Jason’s expression is firm. Eight full weeks of nothing but getting to know his big sister. “Yeah, it certainly does.”

The corners of Nico’s lips etch into a smile of its own. He doesn’t know how he could be so against Jason and Thalia getting to know each other months ago. Thalia seems more at peace in retirement—with a brother and girlfriend in either hand, and Nico’s kindled a friendship that he’s grown to enjoy.

A lot.

“How’s praetorship suiting you?”

Nico settles in the slot beside the other demigod and sighs. “A lot of duties. Drills, in the morning. Mediation sessions between the Legionnaires who were loyal to Octavian and the ones who were loyal to Reyna and Thalia. Drills, in the afternoon. Moderating War Games—kissing baby heads. A lot of baby heads.”

“Deliver anymore newborns?” Jason asks, and Nico’s face grows hot.

“No,” Nico admits. “But we’ve tweaked the budget for parental leave. The moment anyone announces they’re pregnant, they go through the right facets to make sure their role within the Legion is all covered. Parents can stay with their children for as long as they need to and rejoin the Legion to finish out their ten years at their own pace. The gods already neglect to visit their children enough. There’s no reason to wish that upon their mortal children trying to start families, too.”

“That’s amazing, Nico,” Jason says. There’s a sense of awe in Jason’s voice that makes Nico’s cheeks flush pink.

His hand curls against his new tattoo—the one that appeared when he earned his last tick mark for bringing the Athena Parthenos to Camp Halfblood.

“I…wouldn’t _have_ a family without the Legion,” Nico admits. “I like helping make it better for everyone. Not just for war.”

“And you’re doing a great job,” Jason continues. He smiles warmly—proudly—at Nico.

Nico thinks back to the words Reyna uttered just this morning. How it only took a trip with Jason Grace for him to consider praetorship a _good_ idea. It’s… _hard_ to describe that trip. How much changed between Jason and him, and how much had changed for himself.

When he described his lineage to the three people who he grew up with—his true lineage, they’d stared at him in confusion. Percy was close to taking it as another sleight against Jason, but Nico knocked that down before it could become an issue. There was no reason to dislike Jason. There never should have been.

“I have some big shoes to fill,” Nico says, and he rubs his tattoo again. “Thalia’s, I mean. She shielded me from this for as long as she could.”

“Thalia wouldn’t have chosen you as her successor if she didn’t think you were already a good leader,” Jason protests. “She’s a good judge of character. And I’ve seen you in action firsthand.”

With each word, Nico feels the heat creep up his cheeks. “I hope you’re not talking about delivering babies.”

“I’m…talking about all of you, Nico,” Jason says—and he stares at Nico oddly. With amazement, that Nico isn’t lifting with each word of praise.

Instead, Nico’s face burns scarlet—at _all_ of him—and he resists the urge to hide his face under his cape.

“I know you’ve been working on expressing yourself,” Nico says slowly, “but I’m hearing a lot about _me_ right now.”

Jason’s chuckle is effervescent. He’s so earnest to Nico’s words, shoulders light, that it’d be exasperating on anyone else. But on Jason, it’s fitting. A smile lifts across his face, and his cheeks dust pink.

“Sorry,” he says sincerely. “I’ve…just missed you. A lot.”

Oh. Nico bites the inside of his mouth, if only to prevent himself from saying something stupid. He shuffles in his seat, hands crossed over his lap, and feels both his face burn and chest swell at the same time. Reyna’s _told_ Nico how excited Jason was to see him, but. It’s still hard to believe.

“I…” Nico stumbles over his words. “I’m. Yeah. It’s going to be nice seeing each other again. I’m glad you moved here. For you, I mean.”

It’s a lot more words than _I missed you too_. Still, Jason stares at them as though a moment hasn’t passed since their last meeting. There’s warmth and fondness in Jason’s eyes—far more than Nico expects—but he understands. After spending so much time together on their quest, Nico’s spent plenty of days aching for Jason’s company, too.

“Is that the new tattoo?” Jason asks suddenly—and he lights up. Again, for Nico’s sake.

Nico stares down at his mother’s symbol and extends his arm. He pulls up his sleeve, so Jason can get a full look at all of it. “Sometimes I forget it’s changed.”

That he’s not just _Nico di Angelo_ , son of Jupiter, anymore. He upholds Juno’s lineage over Jupiter’s ichor—and has felt more comfortable with himself in the months since the realization.

“Wow,” Jason says—and he’s careful as he wraps a hand around Nico’s wrist. Then—slowly, he traces the curve of the peacock’s neck to the ends of its feathers, his thumb at Nico’s wrist bone.

Nico unintentionally recoils.

“Sorry—” And this time, Jason is the one to blush. “Um—too much?”

“No,” Nico says—and he extends his arm again, flustered. “I. Forgot how cold your hand were.”

Jason joins him in embarrassment, looking as self-conscious as he did months ago about his powers. About himself. “Oh.”

“It’s fine,” Nico says quickly. “I was startled. It’s…been a long day. Go ahead.”

This time, when Jason inspects his arm, he hovers at best. No touching. He looks at the simplistic design of the eagle and the peacock—and he smiles, as though the new ink is on himself. Jason hooks a finger beneath the glass beads of his necklace.

“Getting a tattoo marking all of your triumphs makes these feel a little less cool,” he admits.

“Considering you went to a camp that prioritizes basket weaving and camp singalongs, I’d say that a pretty homemade necklace is fitting, Jason,” Nico retorts—and Jason doesn’t even refute the claim. Nico hesitates—before adding, “But between the two of us, I…think we both know who actually got to have a childhood.”

“You did lose your sister,” Jason reminds him.

“I don’t think I get to say that anymore since she cheated death. Both of them now, actually,” Nico says with a wry amusement. “You…don’t have to downplay what happened at Camp Halfblood, Jason.”

With how rambunctious camp is, the parts where Camp Halfblood groomed Jason will forever leave a bad taste in Nico’s mouth. He’s seen the effects of Jason’s upbringing up close and knows what affect it’s had on Jason. _No one_ needs their childhood stripped away, for the sake of a prophecy or in the name of their father, or whatever.

Yet, Jason’s dimples reappear as he smiles, touched by Nico’s words.

“I’m not,” Jason promises. He curls his hand around the necklace again. “This thing has my whole life on it, but…this summer’s gonna be the first year I don’t add a bead to this.”

“You’ve got more life to live, Jason.”

“I know,” Jason agrees—and his expression is tender. “Thank you for caring, Nico.”

“I’m—” Always going to care. “—just glad that you’re caring for yourself.”

“I should’ve figured out this whole _self-care_ thing out a while ago. It comes with some nice benefits,” Jason jokes—and Nico snorts. Jason’s smile melts into a quiet laugh, and Nico doesn’t hide his next smile. Not when there’s ease between the two of them. “This is nice, Nico. We didn’t get to do this much while we were on the road.”

“Because we were busy fighting for our lives while Coach Hedge was buying Disney World memorabilia,” Nico grumbles. He rubs his knuckles in memory, after so many weeks of straining himself.

For all of the music that plays at the bottom of the hill, Jason’s laughter is a sound Nico enjoys more. Jason does just that with his small rant. There’s no _tenseness_ to it, or a guarded air of someone who is focused on others rather than himself. On getting Hazel a teacher, on meeting Thalia, on making sure Nico’s okay. It’s just an honest Jason Grace, son of Hades, beneath the stars near one of Nico’s favorite places in New Rome.

The stars still look the same, he’d uttered once. When Jason wondered why Nico spent so much time outside.

Stars remained when monuments fell and people have died—but he thinks Jason Grace glows, now that he’s happy with himself. It’s a constellation that Nico’s proud to be a part of.

“We’ll have more time for this now that you’re here,” Nico says—and his chest bubbles. “Bianca’s already discovered the mall. There’s a movie theater in town, and some nice places to eat—”

“An Italian restaurant?” Jason perks. “For gnocchi?”

Nico stares at the son of Hades, amused. Jason only grows sheepish.

“Sorry,” he says. “We…tried to find a good Italian restaurant while we were in Venice. I mentioned your nonna to Thalia.”

“Did you find good gnocchi?”

“I think I need to know what _great_ gnocchi tastes like to know if I had bad gnocchi,” Jason admits—and he flushes pink as Nico actually laughs. “I…don’t get out much.”

“I’ve noticed,” Nico teases. “But yes. If you want good Italian food, then I can take you.”

“Tomorrow for lunch?”

Nico’s brain hiccups in the middle of their conversation. He looks back at Jason, who stares back. There’s a gentle excitement to his expression as he smiles in Nico’s way, and Nico can’t help but feel his heart skip a beat. Then—

“No,” Nico says, and he presses a hand to his face. “There’s a new education facility open in town. I promised to attend. They’re feeding us.”

“What about for dinner?” Jason asks, which just makes Nico flush.

“War Games are tomorrow evening,” Nico says. “And…two weddings back-to-back the day after that.”

“Oh,” is all Jason can say. He’s disarmed by the answer, while Nico grows self-conscious.

“Sorry,” Nico offers. “You’re right. I’ve been busy. I…might’ve offered to take the load off of Reyna so she and Thalia can spend time together.”

Once he says that, he feels his own disappointment setting in. He’d pushed off Thalia and Jason’s return for a reason—but being here now, falling into the steps he is with Jason, makes him wonder if it was a good decision.

Judging from the look on Jason’s face, that sentiment is shared—which makes the rejection feel even worse. But, Jason nudges him in the shoulder.

“You’re free now,” Jason says—and Nico’s chest tingles.

“You missed the part where I gorged myself on wedding cake,” Nico grumbles, and his face flushes.

Jason laughs again. “I’m perfectly fine where we are, Nico.”

“Really,” Nico remarks with deadpan. “Here, on top of a hill, next to the King of the Dead, on your first day in New Rome, when your best friend and sister are nowhere to be seen, and I’m dressed in the gaudiest—”

“Nico,” Jason interrupts—and he drops a hand on Nico’s shoulder, amused. Then he drops it, regarding Nico’s comment of _cold hands_ earlier. Still, the smile doesn’t wane. “Allow me to _express_ how much I’ve missed your company.”

Nico stares back—at the cheeky flicker in Jason’s eyes, and the cute dimples at his cheeks. He coughs—if only to hide his own fluster—and smiles. “Look at you, using your words.”

The grateful look over Jason’s face means everything. 

“We could go back down to the Juno Moneta if you want,” Jason says gently. “It wouldn’t be the first time you and I crashed a wedding chapel.”

Gods. Nico ducks his head in a quiet titter and pushes a lock of hair behind his ear. “No…I’m. I’m good with here. If you are.”

He doesn’t think he’ll ever understand why, but that confirmation is good enough for Jason. Charcoal eyes flicker brighter than the constellations above them, and Jason happily obliges. “Me too.”

They talk for a long time. Nico doubts he’ll get any sleep before he goes to the event tomorrow—but he finds himself not caring.

Jason explores the details of all the places they went to—Pripyat (“You seriously went to the Nuclear Plant.” “I…wasn’t joking about that, Nico.”), Odesa, Moscow (“How’s our friend Ivan?” “He’s really enjoying pedicures now.”) and so on.

When Jason talks about the other places he’s been—where Thalia insisted that they go, now that she was an adult—he lights up. There’s a childlike gleam that wasn’t there in their first meeting, now that he has a big sister to fall back on.

And—of all the sisters that Nico’s had in his life, he’s first to admit that Thalia is one of the best.

Eventually, the music fades below them. Bianca finds them seated where they are, with her clothes tattered and askew, hair sticking in odd directions.

“You know what’s worse than people fighting over a bouquet?” she asks wryly—while Nico bites back a laugh. “Demigods who have combat experience.”

“You okay?” Jason stands to his feet immediately to inspect her—but Nico suspects a friendly gust helped separate everyone in Bianca’s immediate proximity. Still—the nerves have evidently eased for Bianca as she and Jason address each other.

“Weddings are violent as war zones,” Bianca mutters—in a fashion that’s too reminiscent to Nico himself. “Don’t forget that, Jace.”

“I…don’t think I’ll have to worry about that anytime soon,” Jason muses—and he flashes Nico an odd look. Nico can’t help but echo the sentiment. For all the battles he’s been a part of, Disney World’s wedding chapel is high on the list.

“It’s getting late,” Bianca says. She smooths out her hair until it looks presentable and flashes a look to Jason. “Looks like my brother stole you away for the evening, Jace. I didn’t even notice.”

There’s a rebuttal on Nico’s tongue—but Jason laughs.

“I don’t think I could keep up with you if I tried, Bee,” Jason says—and he gestures to Nico. “Nico’s more my speed.”

He smiles warmly—evidently deciding to cut off an infamous di Angelo argument. Nico’s had enough of those today. Still—he blushes.

“It’ll be an eventful day tomorrow,” Nico agrees—and he flashes a pointed look in Bianca’s direction. “And I’d actually like to sleep _in_ tonight, Sis.”

Bianca flushes without argument—and shrugs. “The house is clean.”

Before anything else is said, Jason extends a hand out to both of them. His lips lift into a smile. “Allow me.”

The touch tingles as Nico curls his hand around Jason’s own. Whether it’s intended or not, Jason grazes the tips of Nico’s fingers like ages ago, and the smile on his face broadens.

For the first time in months, Nico drops into the shadows with Jason Grace.

*

He doesn’t realize how much he misses the tendrils of Jason’s darkness until he’s in it. It’s a sudden, incomparable rush—almost like a blast of cold air or a bucket of ice water. Once it happens, it suddenly _stops_ happening—and they appear right in front of the praetor house.

Bianca sighs blissfully at the sight of her home, while Nico reorients himself.

“Welcome home,” Jason says. He points down the street and gestures to an apartment building, for Nico’s sake. “Thalia and I are over there.”

“Too far,” Bianca admonishes—but then she smiles. She hovers above the ground and pulls the son of Hades in an embrace. There are softer words murmured—words that Nico doesn’t get to hear himself—with the reaffirmation that both Jason and she both want to be close again. Then, “Good night, Jace.”

“Night,” Jason says—and his smile seems fuller.

Nico pushes away a needling thought. That despite the hectic battle Bianca saw at the wedding she and Jason look good together.

Then Jason turns to Nico, and his eyes light up like they did at the crypt. He opens his arms—

And Nico offers a hand, like their first reunion, before he can stop himself.

Jason blinks—and stare at the outreached hand in confusion.

Heat flushes over Nico’s face—and he feels the back of his throat dry. He opens his mouth to speak. Closes it.

“I smell awful,” Nico says finally. He gestures to Bianca behind him. “This one assaulted me with a vacuum cleaner this morning.”

Bianca makes a sound. “I did _not_ —”

“Oh,” Jason says—and he blinks again. He smiles softly and meets Nico’s hand with his own. It’s…much like earlier, where his thumb brushed against Nico’s knuckles. “Good night, Nico.”

“Good night, Jason.” Nico decides not to think about how much his hand tingles at the contact.

Jason gives them both one last wave before he melts into the shadows again—presumably straight to his new room. Jason Grace, son of Hades. New Rome’s newest residence, with a benevolent smile and kind eyes.

A yawn escapes Bianca’s lips, and she nudges him. “Time to turn in for the night, Nico.”

It takes a moment. Two.

“Yeah,” Nico agrees, after he gathers his bearings. Still, he finds it hard to peel his gaze away.

Bianca hooks an arm into his with an exhausted sigh, and he leans into her warmth. Then, for the second time in his life, his big sister pulls him, with the same three words from the alley way back in Venice at the front of his mind. 

_*_

__


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's…all a work in progress. Even if Annabeth and he are still tentative in some of their conversations, it’s a life Jason wouldn’t trade back after last year. 
> 
> Life, with his big sister and his two best friends. With a new friend, in both Nico and Reyna. A new home away from Camp Halfblood—and all of the bad things that outweighed the good. The degree of free time he has is a change of pace from working at the med bay or helping out with classes or younger campers—but it’s time for himself.
> 
> At the end of the day, Jason’s happy that he moved.
> 
> Until the nightmares start up again.

It takes a couple of weeks in New Rome, but Jason finally hammers out a routine. He wakes up early for his morning runs. Then, with the three-hour time difference, he calls Annabeth to catch up as he waits for Thalia to rise.

Most of the time, Annabeth’s ramblings about architecture are white noise while Jason prepares for the day—but he gets to witness the hiccup in conversation, when Percy Jackson, more often than not, appears and calls her for Ancient Greek or Swordfighting classes. It's the happiest he’s seen Annabeth—being able to commit an entire summer designing new cabins for gods outside the court of Olympus.

_“I can’t tell if Cabin Thirteen looks better or worse than the others,”_ Annabeth admits some days—critical of her own work and blueprints.  
  


At first, Jason fell into a role of reassuring Annabeth that her designs were great. But the longer the summer has gone, that slot has been filled by someone else. Before Jason can even open his mouth—

_“What if you installed one of those reinforced beams or whatever you were talking about?”_ Percy asks, before Jason can say a word.

The first time that happened, Annabeth raised her head, surprised, and the son of Neptune shrugged.

_“Did I say it wrong?”_ he’d asked—which is when Jason knew Percy Jackson had a much easier time picking Annabeth’s brain than he did. Jason could offer design ideas from years of research as much as he wanted, but Percy apparently liked to hear her talk—including all the technical stuff.

It makes Jason feel less guilty for spending the summer (his _first_ summer) away from Camp Halfblood—no matter everyone’s insistence that he can do what he wants. 

_“Hades Cabin is ready for you whenever you’re here,”_ Annabeth promises him. Not a _when you come back_ or, _once you’re done with New Rome._ Just—whenever, with a quiet countdown of when Annabeth will finally start college in the fall. 

(Admittedly she’s probably more excited about NRU. Jason would be hard-pressed to get between Annabeth Chase an architecture book.)

Percy and he keep conversation civil. There’s always a lifted eyebrow, or a calculated demeanor—which is how Jason knows that Percy Jackson, son of Neptune, is smarter than people give him credit for. Jason’s seen firsthand how much Nico values his relationship with his old co-centurion. And for all of the teasing Thalia gives the Fifth Cohort centurion, it’s always laced with a profound respect.

The first time he catches Reyna leaving the apartment in the morning, Jason has a fresh pot of coffee ready for her. She stares at him with tired eyes, while he greets her cheerily at the edge of dawn—and they have a strange conversation.

“You’re done with your run already?” she asks, while he cleans dishes in the sink. “Normally you’re still out by the time I leave.”

Jason arches an eyebrow at her straightforward comment. Normally they tiptoe around their current living arrangements (or therelackof.) “Sometimes I have to change it up. You…don’t have to sneak around me. You’re my sister’s girlfriend.”

Reyna stares at him oddly, in a way she did when they both lived in Camp Halfblood. She sets her mug down.

“We…never really discussed arrangements,” she says—and in another life, Jason wonders if they ever worked together. Reyna strokes her mug tentatively, evidently gauging his reaction.

“Oh,” is all Jason says, and he stares at her, puzzled. “I mean, is that something we have to discuss?”

“I play mediator for a lot of conflicts at camp, Jason,” Reyna says. “You’d be surprised how many feuds are started over someone claiming the wrong bunkbed. I…would _like_ to avoid any potential drama over living arrangements. So, if at any point my presence is uncomfortable—”

“—you have your own house, where I’m sure you and Thalia go when you want more alone time,” Jason finishes for her. The corner of his lips lifts, and he offers her more creamer from the fridge. “I’ve had to stop a fight or two over a stolen teddy bear or blanket in Cabin Eleven, Reyna. I don’t think we’ll ever get that ugly.”

She flashes her own look of amusement as she stirs her coffee. “So long as you don’t feel like a stranger in your own home, Jason.”

_Home_ , in New Rome with his big sister. With Bianca and Nico only a few doors down, and a university where his childhood friend would be attending in two more months. Jason’s chest swells at the mention of the word each time it’s used.

And he smiles, giving Reyna’s mug a gentle clink.

“I’ve got no complaints so long as my sister’s happy,” he reassures her. “And believe me—I’ve only ever seen her happy with you.”

Reyna blushes. She gives him another onceover. Whatever she notices, she doesn’t mention—but Jason can tell she’s in a better mood after that talk. Every now and then, they enjoy a quaint sunrise together while Thalia remains a night owl.

Breakfast usually follows at a bakery in town on the mornings Thalia insists Jason doesn’t need to cook. He’s not sure when the habit started. Jason’s used to enchanted plates from Camp Halfblood’s Dining Pavilion and Camp Jupiter had its own Mess Hall—but there’s something nice about having his own kitchen and his own pots and pans. Even if his skills don’t extend further than scrambled eggs in the morning.

On the mornings where he isn’t trying to busy himself, he gets to see Nico.

A sleepy, tired Nico who hardly seems awake with weddings and Reyna’s chores on his docket. Jason manages to swipe a slice of cherry pie out of Nico’s range more than once before the son of Juno can faceplant.

Even after Thalia and he get settled in, and Reyna takes back some of her own duties, both praetors both seem to have their hands full with integrating both camps. Weddings are apparently Nico-specific—and while he doesn’t seem to mind them, the weeks where they’re back-to-back leaves his voice raspy.

They usually get a word or two in over breakfast—before Reyna and Nico are swept away to the praetor’s office. Jason spends days with Thalia exploring San Francisco or New Rome—or with Bianca, trying to find the same cadence as easily as he did with Nico.

Two months without each other is different from a whole year and a half—with all of the tension of unsaid words in between. Maybe Bianca is trying to please him in the way Jason used to fall in line with her.

It's… _all_ a work in progress. Even if Annabeth and he are still tentative in some of their conversations, it’s a life Jason wouldn’t trade back after last year. 

Life, with his big sister and his two best friends. With a new friend, in both Nico and Reyna. A new home away from Camp Halfblood—and all of the bad things that outweighed the good. The degree of free time he has is a change of pace from working at the med bay or helping out with classes or younger campers—but it’s time for himself.

At the end of the day, Jason’s happy that he moved.

Until the nightmares start up again.

*

Jason wakes up, gasping.

The ceiling fan spins above his head, and ambient light creeps through the window from the streetlamps. He feels around, hands outstretched with the expectation to reach the edge of his tiny twin bed at Camp Halfblood—but it reaches further, on his new full mattress. On his new bed, in his apartment in New Rome—with a nightstand holding his glass of water, and the journal he’s dutifully filled out every day on his desk.

It takes a moment for his pulse to settle. For the _quiet_ to overcome the chaos of his bad dream. Jason curls a hand over his wrist, to ease the trembling between his fingers—and with steady breaths, eventually calms himself down.

He sees his bookshelf off in the distance, rather than the crowded array of twin beds and trunks. A poster on the wall, instead of a mural of winged shoes painted in the name of the Messenger God.

His own glass of water beside him, rather than…

Jason shakes his head. He rubs his forehead first, then curls his hand against the back of his neck. Two nightmares this week. Back-to-back.

It’s…not ideal. Jason reaches out for his journal, his fingers struggling to curl around his pencil. He scribbles his thoughts, as instructed by Mr. D. They don’t really make sense—not between exhaustion and confusion. When he can’t seem to make sense of his own thoughts, he shuts the notebook and lays back down.

Waits.

A second. Two.

A minute. Five.

And then eventually, Jason pushes himself out of bed and gets dressed instead. He pulls his tennis shoes out of the closet, double knots his laces, and goes for an evening run.

*

*

“Oh, you’re still in bed.”

Jason rubs the sleep out of his eyes and meets his sister’s gaze. Thalia looks at him from at the door of his bedroom, the surprise evident across her features. She’s dressed in her usual attire—some assortment of leather and fishnet—and most importantly, all things spiky, edgy, and black. She’s also more awake than most mornings. Jason had grown used to leaving her brunch in the microwave.

The edge of Thalia’s lips quirk into a smile. “You finally getting used to the time zone change, baby brother?”

“Which one?” Jason asks—and he smiles back sleepily. After traversing the world for the last two months, they’d learned to sleep on their own schedule. Thalia’s nocturnal clock seemed to adjust immediately when they got back to New Rome, while Jason’s was…well. A work in progress.

“It’s Friday,” Thalia reminds him. 

“Oh—sorry.” Jason stretches, a yawn at his lips. “I’ll get dressed.”

Fridays were breakfast days at Fabiano’s, where the Legion had an extra hour to themselves. In other words—neither Praetor Ramirez-Arellano nor Praetor di Angelo had to work right away. Thalia and her girlfriend’s schedule met a middle ground for waking at a _reasonable_ hour.

He brushes his teeth and dresses quickly. Bianca, Reyna, and Nico are already in the living room, evidently waiting for his wake. Bianca perks first at his appearance, shifting enough weight on the couch that Nico rouses from his little nap, annoyed.

“Can you not?” Nico grumbles groggily—and he rubs his forehead.

“Morning, Nico,” Jason greets. Before he realizes it, the edge of his lips curl into a smile.

Nico stirs after a moment’s more, his blue eyes disillusioned by his sister, and he glances in Jason’s direction. Eventually he replies. “Morning, Jason.”

Thalia claps a hand on Jason’s back, a pertinent grin to her face, and they’re all ushered out the door.

Fridays were nice. The schedule seems to set itself up, rather than the other way around, as Jason tries to find things to fill his day. Watching Thalia’s eyes light up at the sight of her girlfriend—in a time of peace, rather than impending war—is always a better alternative. New Rome welcomes a _normal_ to it that Camp Halfblood often lacked for Bianca—and Jason is finding that he really enjoys the change of pace from Long Island. The long, extended hills and the grassy valleys.

“You been running in the evenings now, Jason?” Thalia asks, when they finally settle into Fabiano’s.

“This past week, yeah.” Jason takes his rich brownie with a glass of milk.

Thalia shakes her head. “You know—for a retiree, you are _way_ too active.”

Jason laughs awkwardly, arms crossed over his chest, and sips his milk. “I’m still trying to get into the swing of things. New Rome’s not really as… _familiar_ to me as Long Island was.”

“The weather is much nicer,” Bianca interjects—and her eyes glimmer. “Like Venice.”

“I dunno—I don’t think he’s doing this senior citizen thing right,” Thalia jokes. She looks across the table, her lips curled in amusement. “What does the Senate say?”

One-half of the Senate is half asleep near the maple syrup. Jason gives Nico a gentle nudge, and the son of Juno is quick to wake.

“What?” Nico asks blearily.

Reyna arches an eyebrow—and reaches over to smooth Nico’s hair. “This _senior_ praetor thinks you’re going to bed too late after you’re done with all of these weddings.”

Nico wipes the sleep out of his eyes once more and huffs. “Your _co-praetor_ would like to remind you that his predecessor would have you sign off on city permits for screamo concerts that would make the _whole city_ go to bed late.”

“Oh,” Thalia muses, “we haven’t had one of those in a while.”

“You won’t this week,” Nico says. “Someone booked the Coliseum for their wedding tomorrow evening. There’s going to be a duel to the death. I’m flying down on a chariot.”

Jason coughs and hides a laugh behind his fist. He watches as Nico’s eyes dart back to him momentarily, a flicker of amusement in his own eyes, while Reyna wrinkles her nose.

“Why do the Romans insist on a Duel to the Death?” Bianca asks, with a fraction of exasperation her tone.

“Why do the Romans do anything?” Nico rolls his eyes—and in one of the rare instances, the di Angelo siblings almost look like the same person in their bemusement.

“Honest to gods, who has so much money that they’re willing to rent out the entire Coliseum?” Reyna asks in disbelief.

“Babe,” Thalia replies. A grin spreads across her cheeks as she points to herself—and Reyna rolls her eyes.

“I know it’s not you,” Reyna retorts—but it gets a lively snicker anyway.

“People spend as much or as little as they think they should on a wedding. Kind of a scam,” Nico comments wryly. “At the end of the day, they all want the same thing for their relationship. A commitment.”

“Must be nice,” Jason says, “falling in love with someone and wanting to spend the rest of your life with them, I mean.”

And not having it completely blow up in your face, he decides not to say. Nico studies him carefully, a hand brushed up against his new tattoo, and he shrugs.

“Sometimes love isn’t even involved. Sometimes it’s a business transaction—or in Mammina’s case, blackmail,” Nico says—and Jason bites back another smile. “How’d we even get on this subject?”

“We were talking about how my brother spends his entire retirement just working on his eight-pack,” Thalia teases—and Jason feels the red blooming in his cheeks. “Seriously, I think the longest I’ve seen you sit still is to eat.”

Jason grows redder at his sister’s assessment, but Nico blinks.

“Your eight-pack?” he repeats, evidently still exhausted from his eventful days.

“I’ve been running in the evenings,” Jason translates—and he rubs his own bicep self-consciously. “Um. On top of my runs in the morning.”

“Jason gets his morning exercise before the cadets are even awake,” Reyna comments—which is something she can only say after a few weeks of staying at their apartment. “It’s a habit he hasn’t shaken from Camp Halfblood.”

It’s then that Nico frowns, slowly turning back to Jason. “Why?”

With Nico asking, Jason can’t help feeling self-conscious. He shrugs and rubs the back of his neck. “Just because, I guess.” 

To his surprise, Nico looks a little more awake. He stares for a moment, then opens his mouth to speak. Bianca beats him to the punch.

“You’ve been like this long before we met,” Bianca chastises—and she shakes her head. “You should slow down, Jace.”

“Hard to do that when the year’s almost halfway over,” Jason says—and his lips lift into a tired smile. He looks between their little group, with the realization that he’s the center of attention. Then, Jason sits a little straighter in his seat. “I’m fine, really. I’m just…used to doing things around Camp Halfblood. Basket-weaving. Candle blowing. Ancient Greek.”

Fighting, he doesn’t say. Training and planning.

“Which you don’t do anymore,” Nico says slowly, “because you’re retired.”

“Now he’s caught up,” Thalia says—and she laughs affectionately as Nico glows pink. “You’re welcome to come and go as you please, baby brother. Annabeth promised me Hades Cabin would look nothing less than badass.”

Something tells him that Annabeth and his sister may have different definitions of the word _badass._ Jason shakes his head, biting back the queasiness at the pit of his stomach. “Maybe another weekend.”

“You could attend the War Game tonight,” Reyna suggests. “Not participate—but they’re similar to Capture the Flag. You might enjoy yourself.”

“Another night,” Jason promises. “I…might have to, though. I’m feeling like the odd-one out for skipping out on those.”

To his surprise, Nico nudges him in the shoulder, with a careful look in his eye. His lips press into a flat line. “War Games aren’t for everyone. There’s plenty of other things to do in New Rome.”

In his head, Jason can almost hear their conversation from when he first came back. Fighting isn’t for everyone. He takes in Nico’s empathetic look and settles a little more in his seat.

Thalia gives him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. “You okay without me tonight?”

“I’ll find something to occupy my time,” Jason says—and he gives her a reassuring squeeze.

Still— _finding_ something to preoccupy his time may take the longest of all.

*

Thalia ends up parting ways to walk Reyna and Nico to the principia. As always, it leaves Jason and Bianca together.

They’ve talked occasionally since the end of spring. The more Jason sees her in New Rome, the happier Bianca seems—in a content, normal life without the fear of a quest or unavoidable destiny looming over their heads. Which—works out best for the both of them. Bianca gets what she wants, and Jason has one of his best friends again.

Most days are spent enjoying the ambiance. Bianca takes pictures around all of the buildings of New Rome, or they wander around San Francisco. There’s a year missing between them, where Bianca was a huntress before death, and Jason mourned everyone who died. They don’t approach that subject often.

In a way, they’re both still trying to get used to what New Rome has to offer compared to what Camp Halfblood lacked—a life within a safe haven, rather than a safe haven from life. There’s a relief in Jason, when Terminus strictly tells them that weapons aren’t allowed past the boundaries of the city.

Bianca is partial to the mall, where demigods can safely gather and go in and out of a store without the fear of monsters looming over them. She has a nervous energy that followed her in rebirth—all related to her new life and making things perfect with Nico. Making things right.

“Is Nico okay?” Jason asks—when Nico’s disgruntled demeanor lingers in his mind. “He sounds like he’s shouldering a lot this summer.”

Bianca shrugs as she rifles through clothes. “It’s the combination of wedding season and integrating both camps. If he’s not busy with one thing, then he and Reyna are busy with the other.”

“Integrating both camps is…a lot,” Jason says, and his lips press into a worried frown. “That’s basically twice as many people.”

“I volunteered to help him with the wedding stuff,” Bianca admits—and she lets out a tired sigh, “but he told me not to worry about it. I…think he still feels bad over the whole Calypso thing. Me deciding to stay rather than travel the world with her.”

Jason thinks of the Titan daughter that graced their presence at the edge of spring. He remembers how firm Bianca was about staying in Ogygia, until Zeus forced her against it. “Have you guys talked about it?”

“No,” Bianca replies blithely—and she pulls out a dress to look at. “That would involve talking about my love life, and neither of us want that.”

She’s pointed in her statement, her nose wrinkling, and Jason holds back a smile. Still—he notices her eyes dim with a quiet frustration. One that isn’t too far from what he’s seen in the past.

“If,” Jason starts slowly, “that’s something that worries you, maybe it’d be worth talking about.”

“Jace, my love life?” Bianca asks, and she looks at him with grimace. “When’s the last time you wanted to talk about _yours_?”

“Well,” Jason starts—and he stops soon after. He shifts uncomfortably. “Um.”

The last time he _had_ to talk about his love life was with Eros—and he’s not keen on reliving those memories again.

As Bianca flashes him a guilty look, Jason’s not sure if it makes him feel better or worse. She hangs the dress back up. “Sorry. We can go back to my pathetic love life.”

“I hardly call having a goddess for a girlfriend pathetic.”

She smiles at him more tentatively than he expects. Then she pushes a lock of long hair behind her ear and guides him to another rack of clothes. “She and I were never going to last in the long run.”

“You’re so sure about that?”

“We didn’t want the same things.” Bianca glances back at Jason. “I mean—we both wanted a life where the gods didn’t have control over us. She was stuck on an island for thousands of years and I lost my brother because of something stupid I did when I was twelve. I got my brother back, and she got a life again. If… _I_ was stuck on an island, where someone would leave every time they fell in love with me, I’d want to focus on myself, too. Because I want to. Not because I’m forced to.”

Jason thinks back to the vision he saw of Bianca in Ogygia. The one with her bare feet in the sand and dressed in a Grecian gown. Bianca looked as in her element in an island paradise as she did wielding a bow and electric arrows. She’d held onto Calypso’s hand like a lifeline, but…Bianca also changed lives like the clouds changed weather—so the atmosphere would fit her, rather than the other way around.

Still—he thinks of how hopeful she was on Olympus when she begged for Calypso’s freedom. How excited she was, her hands laced together with the goddess and a smile to her face. One moment, Jason saw his best friend in love—and the next, she was telling him how they’d broken up, with nothing but a sad smile to her face as she and Hazel got to know each other. It’s just…hard to imagine. 

“So,” Jason replies, “you’re really over it.”

Bianca looks at him—almost studying him in a way he’s grown used to with Nico—and nods in return. “I mean…it took a while, but yeah. I really don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with me. I deserve that much, don’t I?”

“You do,” Jason agrees. The corner of his lip curls into a smile. “When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound nearly as pathetic as you think it does.”

Her laughter is quaint. “The mindset’s half the battle, Jace. Actually _finding_ someone who wants my company is another mission entirely.”

“I like your company,” Jason says—and she rolls her eyes.

“You’re a good friend,” Bianca replies. She folds a hand over a clothing rack and shakes her head. “Maybe I’ll just die alone. At least this way I can’t get roped into some loveless marriage.”

It’s an interesting thing, listening to Bianca joke about her previous life. She’s happier now. Truly, compared to her life before the Huntresses, when she pretended the prophecy didn’t exist. Jason used to enjoy those moments where they weren’t son of Hades and daughter of Zeus—but two teenagers, sneaking out and _living._

Now they got to blend the two.

“I’m a son of Hades, Bee,” he reminds her. “I’ll enjoy your company in death, too.”

Bianca looks up to him, the corner of her lips lifting into another a smile. She puts away a dress and kisses him on the cheek.

“You’re going to make some lucky girl’s heart explode someday, Jace,” she declares. Bianca hooks their arms together. “Or boy.”

“I…doubt it,” Jason replies—and he decide against commenting on his own love life.

They check out of the first store with a few new outfits for Bianca. She has fun talking up the cashier—a pretty nymph that lives in the ficus behind the counter. Bianca’s eager to have conversations that blend the mortal world with the mythological one—and ends up getting an extra discount on top of her clothes.

“Do you even have room in your closet?” Jason asks.

“Let me worry about that,” Bianca promises—and Jason bites back another smile.

On their way out of the store, Jason spots two familiar faces. “Oh—I think that’s Leo and Piper.”

Sure enough, the son of Vulcan and daughter of Aphrodite are chatting with a satyr—a _faun_ —that is waving around a mysterious mug. Jason’s not sure what to think of it.

“Oh?” Bianca perks. “ _Oh_.”

And then she shrinks behind Jason, nearly taking his weight with her as she hides.

“Whoa—” Jason blinks, feeling one daughter of Hera sidle under his silhouette. “Um. Bianca?”

“I’m not here,” Bianca hisses hastily.

“What? Why?” Jason turns to face her—but she’s quick to shove his face frontwards. “Bianca, I’m confused.”

“Just pretend I’m not here,” Bianca repeats, “and shield me when they walk by.”

She uses the same tone of voice from when they would play Capture the Flag together, with an impromptu rescue mission for their comrades. Jason blinks and follows Bianca’s line of sight. “Is this because of Piper? I thought the two of you got along.”

“We—” Bianca glows, and she tugs at the back of Jason’s shirt. “—don’t _hate_ each other.”

“That clears things up, Bee.”

“Your sarcasm isn’t appreciated,” Bianca retorts.

Jason turns his head again. “I just don’t understand—”

“Hey, it’s the Ghost Boy.” Leo comes into their line of sight, a nefarious grin to his face as they come close. “And…friend?”

Bianca would’ve hid better if she hadn’t squeaked. When she does, Piper looks over, one eyebrow lifted into the air.

“Hi Leo,” Jason greets. “Hi, Piper.”

“Jason,” Piper replies—her tone courteous. She’s dressed in a tie-dye Powerpuff Girls tank top, a pair of loose-fitted jeans, and a dirty pair of chucks that look like they don’t belong with the outfit.

But—being the daughter of Aphrodite that she is, it comes together. It’s a far cry from the dainty image that Jason’s grown used to from Bianca.

“Bianca,” Piper says, as though sensing the contrast herself. “Hi.”

Jason finds himself at an impasse, with Bianca’s hands fisting the back of his shirt and both Leo and Piper staring awkwardly. Eventually, Bianca unfurls her hands from Jason’s back and peeks over his shoulder.

“Hi,” she offers—and Piper doesn’t look any less amused.

“You buy a new dress?” Piper asks.

Bianca stares back at her blankly—until Piper gestures to the bag in her hand. “Oh. Oh! Yes. I bought a dress. For me.”

The edge of Piper’s lips curl into a smile. “Cool.”

“Cool,” Bianca repeats. “Yeah. Cool.”

Jason stares at his best friend quizzically—at her nervous demeanor, and the way she curls her hand over the handle of her shopping bag. Then he looks over to Leo—who seems to be darting back and forth between both girls, demeanor filled with amusement.

“So,” Jason says eventually, to fill in the awkwardness. “How’s the weaponry shop doing?”

At the mention of his shop, Leo splits into a grin. He crosses his arms over his chest. “Pretty well, man! Business is booming this summer. You’d be surprised how well a _souvenir_ double-edged sword goes for first-time visitors in Camp Jupiter.”

“I think you have a pretty good reputation after building a boat out of a dragon, Leo.” Jason smiles amicably, while Leo shrugs.

“Whatever pays for Festus’s parts,” Leo says. “My boy’s almost up and operational again. I’ll have enough money by the end of the summer to get all of the sheet metal I need to fix him up.”

“I…thought Festus was at Camp Halfblood,” Bianca says. She stares at Leo curiously.

“He is,” Leo reassures. Then he rolls his eyes and nudges Piper in the shoulder. “But _this one_ is all the way out on the west coast. Hard to say no to a first-class ticket.”

Piper smiles back and nudges Leo affectionately. “First class means you complains less. That’s the only way I’ll have you, Valdez.”

“Beauty Queen, I will _gladly_ fill in the gaps with something else to annoy you.” Leo snickers and ribs Piper back just as warmly. For two Roman and Greek demigods, they get along swimmingly—long before they had to worry about ballistae firing across New Rome. Jason can’t help but relish in their friendship.

Bianca looks over to Piper. “You’re…not at Camp Halfblood, either?”

Piper makes a face and shakes her head. “I think I’ve had enough _demigod time_ being stuck in the Labyrinth for all of spring semester. I’d rather have some _me_ time.”

“Here,” Bianca replies, “in New Rome.”

“Piper’s dad lives in Malibu,” Leo explains. “Not the _quickest_ trip, but—”

“Much closer than going coast-to-coast,” Piper finishes for him. “After everything that happened this past spring, I just want to be close to family. You know?”

Bianca studies her carefully, a look of surprise passing over her features. Then she gives a reaffirming nod. “I know.”

“Hey—I’ve seen you with a bow and arrow. I’ve got some trick arrows I’ve been working on if you’re interested. Maybe some doggie armor for that ferocious hellhound of yours.” Leo grins and pulls out a business card from nowhere. “Hit me up, Bee.”

Bianca is reluctant, but takes the card anyway. “Jace is the only one that calls me Bee.”

“Ignore him,” Piper says—and she rolls her eyes. “Leo goes for girls out of his league to get a rise out of them.”

At that comment, Bianca’s cheeks flourish pink. And she repeats, “Out of his league.”

“Guilty,” Leo replies. “Though—you’re less _out of my league_ and in the _absolutely no fly zone._ ”

At that comment, Bianca’s lips contort into a frown. 

“Ignore him,” Piper says again—to which Leo laughs.

“Yeah, ignore me,” Leo agrees. “So, you guys eat yet?”

Jason blinks as Leo’s eyes suddenly land on him expectantly, despite speaking with Bianca only moments before. Leo’s lips curl into a crooked smile, and he looks like a devilish Santa’s elf.

Bianca’s stomach erupts in a growl—garnering all of their attention. She flushes, red dusting across her cheeks as she looks back to Jason—equal parts hopeful and mortified.

“Sorry,” Jason says, and he pats his stomach. “Guess I could eat.”

*

The last time Jason talked to Leo was aboard the Argo II, when the son of Vulcan admitted how much he missed his family—the one he gained after coming to New Rome.

The stress of war had made Leo chary. For all of the ways both wars had affected Jason, he felt awful for putting Leo in a similar position. Still—they never got to revisit that subject after Gaea exploded. Jason spent a week in Camp Halfblood’s med bay alongside Will Solace and the rest of Cabin Six, but once he announced his departure, the expectation was to faze him out of a lot of the responsibilities at camp.

Leo and he saw each other in passing before he left. For the most part, Leo and the rest of his siblings from Cabin Nine seemed to enjoy hiding out in the bunker and fixing up their mechanical dragon. Hazel, Frank, and Annabeth knew Leo much better after months on the Argo II together. Jason’s time was split between the med bay, Annabeth, and Bianca’s sides before they all saw him off with Thalia.

It was… _hard_ to let go. But also one of the most relieving decisions Jason was allowed to make.

War weathered everyone. The stress that came from a second civil war and the rise of Gaea made it more important to look out for each other—and harder to _like_ each other. So Jason understands how Leo could grow antsy on a boat while away from his weapons shop and the blacksmiths that trained him.

With war aside, talking to Leo feels like their first few meetings before things grew tense between the Greeks and Romans. It’s light and easy—which is probably why Jason enjoyed the company so much to begin with. Now, though, Leo seems even more at ease with family on both coasts, and his best friend at his side.

Jason picks a chicken strip off his plate, while Leo and Piper recount a story of Capture the Flag from this past weekend.

“Man,” Leo says, and he claps his hands to the food court table. “What I wouldn’t give to break apart Clarisse’s spear.”

“And see what it’s made of?” Jason asks, the edge of his lips curling with amusement.

“No,” Leo dismisses, and he shakes his head. He leaves it at that.

On the other hand, Bianca laughs at her words and nabs a French fry from Jason’s tray. “Annabeth, Jace, and I used to team up for Capture the Flag. You put the three of us together and the Red Team basically had no choice but to handover their banner.”

At that claim, Piper’s expression flickers in surprise. Jason recognizes it from months ago, when Bianca called him a swordsman when Piper expected a healer. “Really?” 

“You should have seen it,” Bianca gushes—and she relishes their glory days with a sense of awe. “Jason was _amazing._ He shouldered all of camp back then—there wasn’t anything that he couldn’t do, but—”

She pauses, and glances over to Jason, who smiles tentatively in his seat, hand curled at his bicep.

“—but he’s retired now,” Bianca finishes, her vibrato lowering. She smiles at him, the vigor of her voice changing into something calmer. Jason can’t help but smile back. “And he’s become one of the best healers that I know.”

“Oh—no, I believe that much. You can’t walk two feet in Camp Halfblood without hearing how Jason used to do _this_ or _that_ ,” Piper says—though no exasperation lingers in her voice. She turns to Jason, and they share a glance that’s nothing more than neutral. “Cabin Thirteen looks badass. Annabeth did a good job with it.”

“So I’ve heard,” Jason replies—and he smiles tentatively.

“I was surprised to hear you played Capture the Flag,” Piper explains—and she turns back to Bianca more pointedly.

Bianca stares back, surprised. “Why?”

“You…just don’t seem like the fighting type. Not like Hazel, I mean,” Piper explains—and Bianca looks back, offended.

“You were literally holding onto me while we rode across camp and slayed monsters,” Bianca reminds her. She arches her eyebrow. 

“Sounds romantic,” Leo comments—and Jason holds back a laugh.

“I recall the dog doing most of the work,” Piper says—her voice much more even than Bianca’s own.

“You think hellhounds are easy to train?” Bianca asks. She looks more like her godly mother, her intonation _sweet_ , but eyes daring Piper to say something rotten. “Jason, tell her how hard they are to train.”

Jason decides he’s better off not biting. He startles at the sound of his name and coughs. “I—uh. I don’t think I have a dog in this fight.”

“Jace, you _literally own_ Mrs. O’Leary,” Bianca points out, and she uses a shrewder tone. He shrugs. “I was a huntress, too. I swore my life to Lady Artemis. I can fight.” 

“Didn’t you die?” Leo asks—and Bianca whips a frown in his direction. Immediately, he brings his hands in front of him. “Whoa, girlie—I mean that as least offensively as possible.”

He turns to Jason.

“Is that considered offensive?” he asks. “Asking someone who came back to life about their death?”

“I…can’t say it’s something you see very often,” Jason replies, as he gauges his best friend’s reaction. “So…circumstantial?”

“I didn’t mean any offense,” Piper says quickly—and she eases back into her seat. “To be fair, I didn’t exactly see much of you between Disney World and now. I just figured you were like most girls.”

“Most girls how?” Bianca asks, her voice wry and disapproving. She smooths out her hair over her shoulder.

“You know, most girls,” Piper replies, and she places her vegan burger back on her plate.

“What’s wrong with most girls?” Bianca frowns, while Piper looks uncomfortable to continue.

“Girls who just care about their looks and being with the _alpha_ crowd.” Piper waves a French fry in Jason’s direction.

“Does Jason look like an _alpha_ to you?” Bianca makes a face and shakes his shoulder.

“Again,” Jason reminds her, uncomfortable while Leo laughs. “No dog in this fight.”

“We were literally just talking about what a _legend_ Jason Grace, Son of Hades is,” Piper protests. She shakes her head and spares Jason another glance before going back to her food. “Look, it’s a compliment. It just means you’re not like other girls. You shouldn’t be underestimated.”

Bianca studies the daughter of Aphrodite with an eerie silence. Then, “You think most girls are underestimated?”

“Well—I don’t think _any_ girls should be underestimated.” Piper shakes her head. “But—you have to admit that there are a lot of girls out there who make it harder for the rest of us.”

“Us other girls,” Bianca supplies, her tone speculative.

“Like us, Reyna, Hazel, Thalia, and Annabeth, yeah,” Piper agrees—and she looks back at Bianca expectantly. “I mean—just because _you_ like to get your hair done and look pretty doesn’t mean you’re any less intelligent. But the _other_ girls who like that stuff—like my sister Drew—she makes it harder for the rest of us. People _laugh_ at my cabin because all they care about is being popular and looking pretty.”

At the mention of Drew, Jason’s lips twist into a grimace. “That’s…kind of—”

“I’m a girl,” Bianca replies, her tone of voice steady. “And I like to dress up in cute clothes and get my hair done because it makes me feel good. Just like shooting arrows, and hunting, and winning Capture the Flag makes me feel good. Neither one makes me more or less of a girl. I’m _all_ girl.”

Piper stares at her, confused.

“Just like how _you_ wielded a knife, charmspoke the Labyrinth _,_ and _you_ care about your looks because they make _you_ feel good,” Bianca finishes.

“I don’t care about my—”

“You’re dressed like that because you like the way you look.” Bianca gestures to the daughter of Aphrodite’s ensemble—then to her hair. “And you did your own hair because you like how _that_ looks. And Leo’s literally one of the Seven—so he’s every bit as popular as Jace is.”

“Care to tell my agent that?” Leo muses—and his grin spreads with Bianca’s charm.

Bianca sits a little straighter in her seat. “You’re pretty _and_ powerful. Just like Drew. I _sincerely_ mean _that_ as a compliment—she’s a fun one to go shopping with.”

Piper stares back at Bianca, evidently not expecting the rebuttal. For a daughter of Aphrodite known for her charmspeak, she’s evidently speechless. Red flushes across her cheeks, embarrassed by her own words.

“Hey, Ghost Boy—” Leo leans across the table and nudges Jason with his own foot. “Who’s winning here? Because all I hear is Beauty Queen and Stargirl over there calling each other pretty.”

Bianca suddenly flushes as pink as Piper, and the daughter of Aphrodite shoots Leo a dirty look. Leo grins anyway, much more amused by the exchange than Jason.

“My mother is the goddess of family and women,” Bianca reminds Piper. She lifts a hand. “So from one demigod with a power goddess mom to another—how about we just agree that girls are awesome?”

Piper doesn’t look happy about being chastised. She stares down at Bianca’s hand and eventually reaches out with her own.

“Girls are awesome,” Piper agrees—and the corner of her lip curls into a steady smirk. “But you’re gonna have to put your money where your mouth is about Capture the Flag.”

Bianca takes in the taunt and grins. “It’s a date.”

They shake hands much more amicably than before—and Jason can’t help exhaling a sigh of relief. It’s rare he sees Bianca riled up—but she looks far less nervous now than she did when they exited that clothing boutique.

Then, Piper asks, “Is it now?”

Red flushes in Bianca’s cheeks once more. She’s quick to pull her hand away and go back to the food at her plate.

There’s a daft silence at their table, where no one speaks. Not until Leo gets fed up and asks, “So—do you like ketchup or barbecue sauce with your chicken strips, D.P.?”

*

“So why exactly do you not like Piper?” Jason asks much later, after a long day at the mall. They take the lengthy way back, after perusing few more shops. While Bianca’s arms are full of bags of new clothes, the surplus spills over to Jason.

Bianca flushes as they make it to the edge of New Rome, where Terminus gives them the slightest onceover before dismissing himself to ridicule another New Roman or camper not up to code. “I don’t _dislike_ Piper, I just don’t know how to _talk_ to Piper.”

“That’s a whole lot of _not talking_ you did with her today.”

“I don’t remember you being this sassy before I died,” Bianca retorts—and Jason smiles sheepishly. “Piper’s nice. I get why Nico gets along with her, I just—don’t know how you’re supposed to talk to someone that pretty.”

“Like every other person from the sounds of it,” Jason says helpfully—and this time, Bianca rolls her eyes. “Sorry—I couldn’t really follow half the conversation. I think Leo and I were just trying to make sure it wasn’t going to escalate.”

Bianca stares at him weirdly. “Why would it escalate?”

“Because,” Jason says—and then he stops. “I mean…because it sounded like it was going to escalate?”

“You just don’t understand girls.”

“I hardly understand boys,” Jason agrees, and he stares back at her, flummoxed. Love and marriage. Jason thinks he’s given his heart too many times to the first one—all ending with more cracks than the first attempt. He’s not sure how Nico could summarize marriage as a _business_ transaction when one seems essential for the other—but he also never thought he’d live long enough to consider it an option.

He still doesn’t.

“So are you going on a date with Piper?” he asks—and Bianca almost walks into a telephone pole. Jason yanks her back.

“What part of that conversation makes you think that Piper wants to go on a _date_ with me?”

“The part where she said she wanted to see you in Capture the Flag, and you called it a date,” Jason says—and he watches as she glows pink. “It’s…not like how Calypso wants to travel the world. It sounds like Piper’s just going to be a few hours away.”

“You’re rushing this,” Bianca says miserably.

“I’m—not rushing anything.” They halt as they reach their residential block, and Jason’s eyebrows furrow together. “You know I’d never push you.”

Bianca’s demeanor twists—and they’re quick to diminish the topic of Piper McLean. Instead, she turns to meet his gaze, and they approach another rough patch in their friendship. Where Bianca di Angelo did whatever she wanted and Jason Grace obliged because it was better to have her here, than gone.

“I know,” she agrees softly, and she curls her hands over her shopping bags. She touches his shoulder with some unknown strength (because seriously—her clothes were heavy) and rolls to the soles of her heels. “I don’t know—she hasn’t necessarily seen me at my best. I’m either arguing with Nico, or I’m saying something stupid.”

“I don’t think Nico would disagree with what you said today,” Jason protests. “Look, Bee—I’m not pushing you to do anything. I’m just asking questions. Honest. But you _did_ call your love life pathetic earlier.”

Bianca snorts—and Jason can’t help but think it’s a habit developed after living with Nico again for so long.

“And,” Jason adds helpfully, “it sure beats dying alone.”

The corner of her lips lifts, and she looks more like herself as she leans into him. “What happened to always having you by my side?”

“I’ve reconsidered and respectfully decided you need someone who can keep up with you on the dance floor,” Jason informs—and she laughs. 

“We’ll see if fate allows us to meet again,” Bianca declares—and she pulls a lock of hair behind her ear. It’s hard not to think about their past lives—that twelve-year-old girl with her green cap and timid eyes, next to a just-as careful twelve-year-old Jason.

“That’s very poetic of you.”

“Less poetic when the Fates _literally_ control our lives,” Bianca retorts wryly. They make it to her house, and she hands over more of her bags to unlock the front door. There’s a foot of distance between them, as peers back at him carefully. She takes the bags out of his hand. “I’m…thankful that you’ve never pushed me, Jace. But a gentle nudge for you wouldn’t hurt.”

“A gentle for what?” The edge of Jason’s lips twitch.

“You,” Bianca says, “and your love life.”

Oh. Jason blinks and stares back at her, taken aback.

“Just a thought. I’m not pushing you to do anything.” Bianca echoes his words from earlier and lean against her doorframe. “But…next week will mark a year. You know?”

“I…” Jason starts. His nose twitches. “Um.”

“Even the King of the Dead doesn’t walk alone in life,” she reminds him. “You can’t keep up with me, but maybe someone else is already moving at your pace, Jace.”

Jason considers her reasoning. “My dad was a thousand years old before Persephone was even born.”

“And now he lives in the most faithful marriage known to demigod,” Bianca points out—which makes Jason smile. “It’s just a thought, Jace.”

Before he can protest—or give any response, really—she kisses him on the cheek goodbye and heaves a heavy sigh.

“Now I must find room in my closet,” she declares.

“You sound like you’re going off to war.” Jason smiles faintly.

“There will be many casualties,” she says forlornly—and then she smiles at him like she would have after a day trip to NYC. “Bye, Jace. Have a good night.”

“You too, Bee.”

She shuts the door behind her, leaving Jason alone with his thoughts. _That_ thought.

*

Running around New Rome in the evenings has actually helped Jason learn the landscape better. There are fewer people out at night—no one but the critical Lares, who glowed in midnight’s dusk and waggle their fingers at him if he happened to run across their path. Jason doesn’t do _that_ often—but tonight in particular, his head is elsewhere.

If it were any other demigod, they’d go right through the Lares—but Jason Grace, son of Hades, has a special knack for bumping straight into them. He apologizes profusely, of course—he’s been in his own thoughts in the last few days. Bianca’s gentle (unexpected) nudge seems to push him further into that headspace. Especially now.

He's always enjoyed running. No weapons to worry about, no people who need protection. Just Jason in his thoughts, without destiny clamoring at his ankles.

He drags his feet across different terrains—the asphalt of the via principalis, the grassy hills of the outskirts of New Rome—and the cobblestone steps within city limits. Jason runs a little further every day. West, in the opposite direction of Long Island and Camp Halfblood.

But, he knows the longer he goes west, he’ll circle back to _east_ coast. His childhood home.

With Bianca’s thought on his mind, it blocks out some of the other reasons why he keeps his steady trek. At the same time, it makes those thoughts worse. Those nightmares.

Jason hadn’t given much thought to his love life—if ever. His heart was taken to the Fields of Punishment, where he wasn’t keen on going. After Eros’s arrows and piercing words this past spring, he’s even less inclined to want love than after his sixteenth birthday.

It’s just not something he gave a lot of _thought_ to, since everything—everyone—focused on what would happen _that_ day. Instead of the other days in Jason’s life, where he was just…trying to live. Trying _not_ to die because he had a duty.

HIs camp beads are a heavy rope around his neck—much like the noose of the Achille’s Curse that pulled him out of the River Styx. Each bead he earned became a countdown until the very last one. The one that held the name of every other demigod who died for _his_ destiny.

He thinks of Bianca’s words about Hades—how of the Three Kings, his father was the most faithful to his wife. For a long time, Jason struggled with the fact that the one time Hades, King of the Dead, _was_ infidel was to sire a son who would deal with the heavy hand of the fate of Olympus. So, good and bad. Mostly bad, for Jason.

And some good, wedged in there like hope in Pandora’s Box.

Jason is enough, his mother had said. Jason Grace, the _healer_ —someone to bring his mother out of the glamorous life that turned her into a hollow shell.

He’s retired from that life now, because there was meaning outside of Camp Halfblood and Olympus.

So—in his efforts to find a _new_ meaning in his life—in cherishing his relationship with his sister, rekindling his connection with Annabeth, finding common ground with Bianca and understanding that Camp Halfblood did him as much wrong as he did it—maybe love could be there. For him.

“Maybe not,” he says almost automatically to his father’s crypt. His evening runs always seem to end up there—with Jason staring at his father’s small statue and offering new flowers or offerings in the brazier.

A lot has changed since last year. In going west— _further west_ , he’s crossed Moscow, Odesa, and Croatia again. All of the places that made him feel better as a _son of Hades_ when Jason questioned whether he should even be alive. Jason thinks he’s finally understanding what it means to be his father’s son—but whatever Eros and Aphrodite intend for his love life is a _bad_ monster he’d rather keep in Tartarus.

Or—as of right now, in the Fields of Eternal Punishment. And getting it out of there feels…dangerous.

He’s so deep in thought that he doesn’t notice someone walking up behind him. “Jason?”

Jason smiles before he can help himself, his head bowed—and then turns to meet Nico’s gaze. Nico’s not dressed in the shining glamor of a crown or bangles or whatever other jewelry—just the same Camp Jupiter t-shirt in the summer’s heat and a praetor’s badge. It’s different from the regalia he’s adorned to officiate weddings, and the praetor armor Jason’s used to from their quest.

But, no less Nico, who flashes him a curious glance. “What are you doing up so late?”

“My evening run.” Jason takes a final inspection of his father’s brazier before standing to his feet and dusting of his knees. “Who won the War Games?”

He’s not expecting Nico to look at him so oddly, one eyebrow high in the air. “The First and Fifth, once they stopped butting heads.”

“Sounds like trouble.”

“So are most teambuilding exercises,” Nico remarks. “Reyna and I were announcing _lights out_ when I noticed someone running through Temple Hill. Is this when you normally take your evening run?”

“Yeah.” Jason looks back at Nico, puzzled. “Why?”

“Because it’s a quarter past one,” Nico points out—and Jason flushes.

Jason touches the back of his neck self-consciously. “Dad’s crypt is my checkpoint. I usually run through a bit of New Rome before I head back home.”

Nico stares at him. Then he turns around and points to the red-roofed porticos off in the distance, near the boundaries of New Rome. “You go there.”

“Um. Yeah.”

“And—” Nico gestures past the via principalis, where both praetor houses and Jason’s apartment complex sit. “—you run past home.”

“Yes.”

“Across the Forum, up the hills of Temple Hill, all the way to your dad’s crypt?” Nico frowns and eyes him again. “That’s more running than I expect out of my cadets, Jason.”

There’s a way that Nico says _my_ _cadets_ that warms Jason’s heart. Nico’s grown into the role as praetor to the legion comfortably after a few short months. Jason can’t help but smile—but then he remembers he’s also on the hot seat with one son of Juno.

“No one else is out in New Rome right now. My only enemy is a phone booth if I’m not looking,” Jason jokes. “Easier to clear my head this way.”

“Do you need that these days?”

Jason blinks. When he looks back up, Nico sports the same look he did this morning, before Bianca interrupted him.

“I thought you said you were running _just because_ ,” Nico continues. His expression is less curious now. “You sure you’re okay, Jason?” 

The edge of Jason’s lips curl into a nervous smile, and he concedes. “Can’t get one over you, can I?”

Nico flushes and crosses his arms over his chest. “I can’t help it if I notice things.”

“I appreciate it,” Jason promises. “I just…you’ve been so busy these days that I didn’t realize there was something to notice.”

There’s a moment of hesitation, where Nico looks at the dirt at his feet, then slowly scoots his shoe across grass. He sighs and rubs the praetor badge pinned to his shirt, then shakes his head.

“You only touch the back of your neck when you’re nervous,” Nico says finally. “You did that a lot during our quest. It’s…hard, not to notice.”

Oh. Again, Jason blinks, and looks back to the son of Juno, who stares at him just as flustered as before. Even as he speaks, Jason realizes his hand is curled at the base of his neck.

“That’s where the curse is,” Nico says, “right?”

Wow. “I… _really_ can’t get one over you.”

“You just have to look for the right things,” Nico says—and he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his pants. There’s a moment where Nico looks shy, but Jason can’t figure out why. “I…spent too long on our quest not looking for the right things. I. don’t really want that to happen again.”

Jason stares back at the son of Juno, taken aback once more. The pads of his fingers brush against the weak point of his neck—then he brings his hands to his sides.

“It was just a guess,” Nico continues quickly—and he brings his shoulders to his ears. “You can tell me I’m wrong and I’ll believe you.”

“It’s fine, Nico.” Jason sits against a patch of grass and pats the area beside him. Nico looks back, nervous, and slowly makes his way beside Jason. “You just surprised me. I don’t think Annabeth even knows.”

“Is that what’s bothering you?”

“Not necessarily,” Jason says—and he brushes his thumb over his neck again—as though it’s still raw and new. He remembers doing it almost a year ago and thinking about how his entire mortality was reduced to something smaller than a fingerprint beneath the knot of his necklace. “I had a weird conversation with Bianca earlier.”

“It’s Bianca,” Nico retorts—and Jason laughs. Then, “Weird, how?”

Jason breaks down their mall visit. How they ran into Leo and Piper, and the awkward experience of watching Bianca di Angelo and Piper McLean have a showdown about how awesome women are.

“Leo’s shop is doing that well, huh?” Nico notes. “I signed a document today so he could get a bigger booth at the Forum. Good for him.”

There’s no animosity there. Jason recalls awkward run-ins aboard the Argo II, where Nico and Leo tried to avoid each other—lest they both wanted to rub each other the wrong way. Now, though, Nico sounds sincere. Maybe it had to do with the shield Leo rushed to make before Jason and Nico diverted onto a quest of their own.

“I think they were flirting,” Jason says next. “Bianca and Piper, I mean. I’m not really sure.”

“Ah,” Nico says. He doesn’t sound surprised.

“You knew about them?”

“As little as I can possibly can.” Nico shakes his head and wrinkles his nose. “I try not to talk to Bianca about her love life.”

Jason bites back a laugh, after hearing the same sentiment echoed by Nico’s sister a few hours prior. He looks down to his hands and rubs his fingers. “Well…I told her I’d support her happiness no matter what, especially after Calypso. Then somehow we got on the topic of my love life.”

Nico blinks. He looks up to Jason—with maybe more surprise than Jason expects—and palms his new peacock tattoo. “Oh. Um. Why, exactly?”

“To see if it’s time to move on.” Jason heaves a heavier sigh than he intends. It’s easier somehow, doing it now in Nico’s presence. “To think about it, at least.”

“Oh,” Nico says again.

“Yeah,” Jason says.

“Is…it time to move on?”

“Hard to move on when there was nothing really there to begin with.” Jason rubs his forehead—and the same nauseating knots from when Bianca first mentioned it furl in his stomach. To his surprise, Nico brushes a hand over his wrist.

“There was something there,” Nico argues—but his voice is gentle. “Otherwise it wouldn’t have taken such a toll on you, Jason.”

Looking into the sky of Nico’s eyes, it’s hard to argue. No one’s seen Jason the way Nico has—in that cave in Croatia, where Eros prodded at his emotions—and every journey after that. Jason tried to keep his feelings tucked under a rug with all of the quests that loomed over their heads. But Nico’s right—it wasn’t _nothing_ if there if he felt like there was _something_ to hide.

“I…just always thought I would die before it really mattered,” Jason admits. Earnestly. He doesn’t know how else to put it. “I can hardly get my days together. How am I supposed to figure out dating?”

“Your days,” Nico echoes. Then, “You’re restless.”

Jason peers back at Nico, surprised, and the other demigod shrugs.

“We don’t exactly offer campfire singalong and basketweaving here,” Nico replies wryly. His tattoo seems to shine against his forearm, with the six inked stripes showing exactly _what_ Camp Jupiter had to offer. “I…could talk to the New Rome Hospital for you. Maybe our infirmary. I’m sure they’d appreciate a helping hand.”

Jason hesitates. “Thalia offered the same thing. I’m…not even sure if I want to go back into medicine, if I’m being honest.”

He’d gotten into it to counteract every bad thing that happened last year. To _heal_ , rather than add to the destruction of New Rome—but it’s one of those things that felt like a responsibility. The right thing to do. When he looks back up, he notices Nico frowning.

“Sorry,” Jason says.

“No—I’m glad you’re actually willing to admit that.” Nico makes a face of his own and rubs his tattoo again. “I…hate that New Rome makes you feel that way, though.”

“It’s just a different routine from what I’m used to,” Jason admits, and he touches his neck again. “I’ll find my way. Running helps.”

Nico looks doubtful, his gaze following Jason’s palm, but he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he pulls a leg to his chest. “And the…other thing?”

“I…don’t know,” Jason admits—and even that answer feels tightly sewn into his heart. Talking about Luke was never easy—even when Jason found talking to Nico easier than most people.

With Annabeth, they had to navigate through the grief of each other’s emotional absence. Bianca tried to be careful of his feelings after so many years focusing on her own. Having Thalia as his big sister made him want to tell her everything—but maybe Nico was right. Talking about something so personal with his big sister felt…too raw.

“The anniversary of his death is coming up,” Jason continues. “I’ve…worked on getting past a lot of things, but it feels weird to get past that. You know—?”

“Wait.” Nico halts him with a hand, his demeanor shifting. “The anniversary of his death.”

“Um, yeah.” Jason stares at Nico in surprise. “July 1st.”

“He died on your birthday,” Nico continues.

“I…yeah.”

“Jason—” Nico whips back to him, an incredulous look on his face. “—your birthday’s next week.”

Jason shifts uncomfortably on the patch of grass he’s sitting on, with Nico’s full attention. “Yeah.”

Nico sits a little more upright on the hilltop—and he stares at Jason with an unreadable demeanor. His fingers twitch over his arm, and he coughs. “Do you have any plans yet?”

Jason shakes his head.

“Do you… _want_ to have any plans?” Nico asks next, and his voice is just as gentle before—mindful of how last summer was for him. “It’s the first birthday that you and Thalia would be able to celebrate together. I know that means something for the both of you.”

“We talked about it.” Jason purposefully keeps himself from rubbing the back of his neck again. “I don’t feel right celebrating. Not when so many people died. It feels…wrong.”

“What would you and my sister do in the past?”

“Escape Long Island for a couple hours and pretend we weren’t demigods,” Jason replies. “It…usually got overshadowed by some big battle or quest of sorts because of Kronos. And a countdown until one of us turned sixteen.”

And more bodies to bury, he doesn’t add.

“What about before Kronos?”

Jason flushes red. He awkwardly scratches his arm, unable to look at the son of Juno in the eye. “Same kind of countdown. But. Luke used to sneak in cupcakes from somewhere and we’d have our own little celebration. So it wasn’t all bad.”

Nico studies him carefully—to the point Jason grows nervous.

“I’ll…probably visit Camp Halfblood at some point between now and then,” Jason admits. “I just. I don’t know what to do about this.”

Nico draws a breath. Jason latches onto it immediately, looking back to the other demigod. So fast that it apparently startles Nico. Red flushes in Nico’s cheeks and he looks back at Jason suspiciously. “What?”

“Oh,” Jason says, and he feels his own face redden. He touches his own forehead awkwardly and splays his legs out. “I was hoping you’d tell me what to do.”

“ _Tell_ you?”

“This is where you tell me to do what I want to do instead of what feels right,” Jason says—and his cheeks darken as Nico’s brow seems to lift higher in the air. There’s amusement there.

“Can’t get one past you,” Nico echoes from earlier. “Can I?”

“I…have a lot of respect for your opinion,” Jason admits—and he smiles as Nico blushes. Still as humble as ever, even with the title of praetor. Maybe that’s why Jason likes Nico so much.

“There’s a lot more _you_ in that decision than there normally is.” A tentative smile etches across Nico’s lips. “So what do you want?”

Jason mulls over it. Longer than he probably should in one sitting—but Nico waits patiently, anyway. “Maybe… _eventually_ , it’d be nice to have an actual birthday. One that doesn’t feel like it’s a countdown to the end of the world. But I don’t think anyone will be in a celebratory mood.”

“There’s more than enough to celebrate next week,” Nico argues—and he touches Jason’s shoulder gently. “Slaying Kronos. Toppling Krios. You, making it to seventeen.”

Of all the things in his sentence, Nico seems to place importance on the last thing. Jason’s chest swells. He peers back up to Nico and gives the other demigod’s hand a soft squeeze. “Thanks, Nico.”

Nico’s quick to recoil—which startles Jason.

Then—“Oh, sorry. Cold hands—”

“No,” Nico cuts off quickly, but he still thumbs his own palm thoughtfully. “Sorry—I’m. Exhausted.”

“I can imagine with your busy schedule.” The edge of Jason’s lips twitches—and he has a little more trouble hiding his disappointment the second time around. Moving to New Rome was a huge step that he wholeheartedly welcomed—but he thinks he sees Nico less now than he did before the war.

Before Nico can notice that, too, however, Jason stands to his feet. He extends a hand more cautiously this time.

“How about I take you home?” Jason asks.

Nico stares at his palm carefully. “You don’t want to talk about the other thing?”

The other…? “My love life?” Jason asks. “I don’t want to keep you up longer than I’ve already had.”

Jason thinks he’s gotten too good at pulling pie away from Nico’s face in the mornings.

Nico flashes another look, and he rubs his tattoo.

“I…know I’ve been busier this summer than anyone expected,” he says, “but. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me. I. I like talking to you, Jason.”

For a second time that night, Jason feels his heart swell with warmth. There’s something calming about it—in a way that running around New Rome couldn’t achieve for him. Jason’s smiling before he knows it, while Nico inspects the dirt wedged at the end of his own shoe.

“I,” Jason admits, “think my head and heart have to agree on that one.”

“What are they disagreeing about?”

“My…head says it would’ve been a longshot even if he was still alive.” Jason smiles sheepishly and rubs his own knuckles. His hands haven’t held a tremor in a while—not in a long time since the war with Gaea—but it’s hard to break the habit of looking at them. “Not like I ever had the guts to do anything about it before he left Camp Halfblood. And—you know, the age difference.”

Luke was nineteen when he left Camp Halfblood, while Jason was a pint-sized eleven-year-old kid.

“And…your heart?”

“Eros said it best.” The next smile is a little harder to muster. Jason palms his chest. “It’s still down in the Fields.”

Jason has moved past a lot of things since his sixteenth birthday—of what he had to do, and the path he had to take to get there—but Luke is always going to be something hard for him to pass. A sister’s love couldn’t fill that hole.

“Eros also tried to make you feel guilty for being conflicted between being Hades’s son and being yourself,” Nico points out—and he looks at Jason a little more confidently. “You…proved him wrong once already. You’re a son of Hades by _being_ yourself.”

Jason stares at Nico, surprised. “You really think that?”

“I was there to witness it.” Nico shrugs—but then he flashes Jason another meaningful look—one that sports the same pride Jason holds for a son of Juno who became praetor on his own accord. “There’s…a perk to dating, you know. You get out there because you want to—not because some prophecy said so.”

“You…always know the right thing to say, don’t you?”

“You get some practice in after making speeches about loyalty and commitment,” Nico remarks wryly—and he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. Jason can’t help but laugh. “Don’t do what Bianca says, just because. Do what you want, Jason. When you’re ready.”

“You’re…really not going to push this?”

Nico eyes him—and Jason reminds himself that it’s a difference between Nico and his sister, rather than the little nuances he’s noticed of both di Angelo siblings. It’s one that Jason appreciates, and makes him hopeful for more of Nico’s company.

“If you’re going to spend all summer on your _eight-pack_ , then you might as well not let it go to waste,” Nico replies dryly. Jason blushes. “But…don’t add dating to the list of things you don’t think you’re allowed to do because of what happened in the war last year, Jason. You’re allowed to be happy, too.”

At that reminder, Jason feels less unsettled than before. “You _do_ always know what to say.”

Nico snorts. This time, he takes Jason’s hand and dusts himself off. “Make sure to mention that in my _Yelp_ review for wedding officiants.”

Jason laughs. He’s surprised at how much lighter his heart feels.

“I feel better now,” he admits. “Thank you, Nico.”

At that gratitude, Nico flashes a tentative smile of his own. “Good.”

“Yeah,” Jason agrees—and the edges of his lips raise into a greater smile. “Good.”

He extends his hand—much more carefully this time, and watches as Nico’s gaze sit at his palm.

“Can I take you home now?” Jason asks. “I—can’t really do anything about the cold hands, but—”

Nico meets Jason with a hand of his own, with a sense of exasperation flashing in his own eyes. “Just ignore everything that I’ve said this evening.”

Um. “But…”

“Except for the important bits,” Nico revises. He sighs softly and pushes a hand through his hair. He hesitates. “I’d. Love it if you took me home. We’d be going in the same direction anyway.”

Jason bites back his excitement. It’s not often that he gets to escort Nico di Angelo home. “Okay.”

He gives Nico’s hand a gentle squeeze—and then they plummet into darkness.

*

They arrive at the front gate of the di Angelo residence, in the shadow of a streetlamp. Nico stumbles—not as used to shadowtravel as he once was after the Athena Parthenos. Jason steadies him with another hand to the shoulder.

Nico takes a step back once he’s reoriented—then looks over his shoulder. “That’s my stop.”

“Hope your driver was good to you,” Jason jokes.

Nico pats him on the shoulder.

“He’s always good to me,” Nico reassures. “Probably a little too good to me, sometimes.”

Jason’s heart warms, and he can’t help but laugh. “Can…I offer you some advice now?”

“There’s the _little too_ good part,” Nico muses. He stares up at Jason, curious. 

“Block out some time for yourself if you need to. Like—actually block it out in your schedule so no one can bother you,” Jason replies. “There’s nothing wrong with _scheduling_ some personal time for yourself.”

Nico stares at him skeptically. “I’m hearing this from _you_?”

“I learned it a little later than I should have,” Jason admits. A sheepish smile curls against his lips. “After some trials and tribulations, and…a quest with a really nice guy who told me to treat myself better.”

Nico doesn’t respond right away. He studies Jason once more—evidently soaking up a wealth of information for what little time they get to see each other. “If…you want some company next week to Camp Halfblood, then I can go with you. It’s been some time since I’ve seen Hazel anyway.”

Jason blinks. “What about your busy schedule?”

“I’ll block some time out,” Nico quotes—and the edge of his lip curls in a way that makes Jason smile, too. “I think Reyna and Thalia can cut their honeymoon phase short for a day or two. If—you want me to, that is.”

“Nico, I’d love it if you could come with me.” Jason’s smile widens, and he watches as Nico’s gaze falls to the ground.

“Oh, good,” he says. “Great.”

“Great,” Jason echoes. 

Nico visibly bites the inside of his mouth. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks up. Surprisingly, there’s concern in his eyes. “You…gonna be able to sleep tonight?”

Oh. Jason peers back at Nico. Whose blue eyes are steady as he glances back. As Jason touches his neck now, it’s with the knowledge that Nico is watching, too.

“I…don’t think I’ll have any nightmares tonight,” Jason admits—and on cue, he finds himself yawning. “This might be the best sleep I’ll get since moving to New Rome.”

He can’t really tell under the streetlamp, but Nico’s face looks a little darker. Nico keeps his gaze on Jason, his hand at his tattoo. “My door’s always open if you need someone to talk to. And…my couch. I know you sleep better with company.”

Jason can’t help but smile. “Another night. Thalia should be home this evening.”

Nico looks reluctant—far more observant than Jason thinks he deserves—but it’s a kind of concern that makes Jason’s smile grow.

“Rumor has it that you’re flying down from a chariot tomorrow,” Jason muses. “I don’t really want to keep you longer than I already have.”

Still, Nico’s gaze doesn’t waver.

“Okay,” he says carefully. “But I’m here if you need me, Jason. Don’t—”

“Don’t bear the burden on my own,” Jason finishes for him.

Nico blinks.

“Was I close?” Jason asks.

A flicker of amusement in Nico’s gaze. He reaches out and dusts grass off of Jason’s shoulder.

“Don’t forget we’re friends,” he says instead.

“Trust me, Nico.” Jason chuckles softly. “I…don’t think I could’ve survived the night without you.”

Nico averts his gaze, pink dusting his cheeks. “I’m…glad I ran into you then.”

“Me too.” Jason’s always glad to see Nico. 

Nico falls quiet. Contemplative. Then he peers back up tentatively. “Good night, Jason.”

“Good night, Nico.” 

Another moment passes before one of them actually moves. Then, Jason can’t help but watch Nico walk away. The houselights are already off, with Bianca long asleep—but he listens to the key as Nico unlocks the front door. Nico peers over once more, giving Jason one last glance for the evening.

When Nico is finally out of sight, Jason turns around and makes the slow trek back to his apartment complex. A steady sigh of relief flutters from his lips as he climbs the steps.

He looks at Nico’s house from the distance, feeling settled for the first time all week.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jason's journals by [ariihen](http://ariihen.tumblr.com)! Thanks for reading, please comment if you can!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! Rip up a V-Day card for Nico and Jason and please comment if you can! Jason's journals are by [ariihen](http://ariihen.tumblr.com) 8)


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